La Cueva de Salamanca
by the Quiet Minstrel
Summary: It is said that one should never make a deal with the devil. Then again there are those, like Heero, who never had a chance to refuse...and never thought to refuse once he saw all that the devil had to offer... 1x2x1
1. Chapter 1

_**La Cueva de Salamanca **_

_By: The Quiet Minstrel _

PLEASE READ: Author's Note: This story takes its foundation from actual historical myths. I did not create the legend or the location of La Cueva de Salamanca, nor did I create Marqués de Villena. Second, and most importantly, _**this is NOT a story about religion. In no way am I implying how any religion is, was, or should be**__. _I understand religion is a very controversial topic and brings out the passion in people's expression. _This is a paranormal romance_. This story is meant to **entertain**, if you are not entertained, let me know. If you are, I always appreciate the praise. If you have any problem with the religiosity of the work, just exit out of this story and move onto something else. Also, I do not own Gundam Wing, as usual. So, with that said, I hope you all can laugh and cry as much as I did during this journey; and I sincerely hope you enjoy, _La Cueva de Salamanca._

**Chapter One**

_The Legend: For seven months, seven men were trained in the dark arts by the devil himself in Salamanca. The only thing the devil demanded in return was that when their training ended, one of the seven would stay behind forever. Marqués de Villena was the man to draw the fateful card. The legend goes that he escaped from his prison, for reasons unbeknownst, but he left something critical behind—his shadow. No one knows why the devil wanted to keep one of his pupils; no one knows what happened to the shadow or Marqués de Villena for that matter. And as all legends go, no one knows for sure if any of it actually transpired. _

_But perhaps it did. The story goes like this: _

Heero Yuy walked slowly around Art Deco museum. Each figurine and piece of work depicted the rise of women. The smiles, the unforgiving stances, the symbols of passion all stood at the forefront; while the images of somber women, subdued women played a quieter harmony that reflected the truth of the centuries. Right now, Heero was connecting much more with the somber and subdued mood. The sun started to set and Heero knew he'd have to leave soon. He was sure his tour group had long dispersed in favor of a more social form of education. Eager to see Salamanca in the dying light of day—when the city was at its most beautiful, Heero strode with purpose for the first time since he had entered the museum. A collage of smaller paintings that looked more like a cloister of pictures caught his attention for one small detail in bottom right corner. There was a picture of a man knelt on the floor, collapsed and defeated, his head in the lap of a woman.

Why was this so striking? Was it that a male was showing weakness to a woman? Or was it simply that he had not seen a work of art in years that had shown the vulnerability of the mortal man? All the pictures of Christ at all the museums and churches he had visited had depicted Jesus as stoic even when nailed to the cross. Never had he seen a man so destroyed as in this small painting. Now, this was something he could truly relate to.

"¿Señor?"

Heero snapped from his reverie and listened to the attendant ask if he was just about ready to leave. Noticing he was one of the last few in the museum, he made quick work of thanking the staff and stepped out of the building into the hot summer air. The city had turned into gold just as he had hoped. It had been good for him to get out of Madrid. When the Preventers had sent him there to oversee a base closer to the Sanq Kingdom in France, he had reluctantly agreed. Working as an international agent without a wife, kids or even family put him in a situation of virtual obligation. If he didn't uproot, someone else would have to and he imagined it was a man like Wufei who had a wife, kids and an investment in staying put. And so, with his longtime friend in mind, Heero had packed his belongings and moved to the large city. Not that there was anything wrong with Madrid. It was rich with national and world culture. It never slept and if someone smiled at you in a metro they were a tourist. It really was a city made with men like Heero in mind.

And yet, since he spoke the language the problem was people wanted to speak with him. Then again there was also the problem for Heero that there was no such thing as sitting down for a nice, quiet coffee—especially in his neighborhood. The waiter had an adamant interest in his new life in Spain. Had he traveled yet? Was he settling in? How did he like this plaza or that plaza? Though he had a card that now said he was a Spaniard by nationality, he felt like anything but. His definition of a good time was not meeting up two hours after they planned on meeting up to drink and eat at a bar over the span of three hours, clustered together and waving limbs as though conducting the crescendo of a Beethoven symphony. But then again…his idea of a good time was also not coming home to a tiny apartment, alone each and every night. So utterly alone. When had it begun to bother him? When had the silence begun to scream at him? When had it stretched beyond physical space and into emotional dimensions?

_Creak…squeak, squeak, squeak…_

Heero stopped dead in his tracks and in his mind to look to his right to see a small, black gate swinging slightly in the wind. The sun was setting fast now and so Heero figured it couldn't be an entrance to a park or museum. Heero was not a man of curiosity but he was a man of answers. He turned to the gate and peeked through the warping iron slats. It looked like an abandoned neighborhood alcove but there was a littering of plaques explaining the significance of what looked to be so…insignificant. Okay, now he was a little curious. Looking left and then right, he slipped through the gate and turned to the plaque against the wall. Salamanca was rife with local legend but this was the most convoluted, intricate, and confused legend he had yet heard of. Some maintained that this was a site developed by Hercules himself, some believe the Celts held the area, and local legend mostly agreed this was where _the Seven_ had learned the Dark Arts from the devil himself.

The Seven? Dark Arts? Heero looked to the left at the dark shadow of the church that overshadowed the alcove. Oh the irony. Yet, even he knew the man the church had been dedicated to had been a wizard before a Christian. Maybe…just maybe… Heero did an about face to greet the rumored Door to the Underworld. _La Cueva de Salamanca_. A golden stone arch that shielded a set of stairs from the elements. The sun was just about to fall below the horizon and Heero could not ascertain if the pull he felt was due to the time constraint of the encroaching darkness or if it was something all together different. Either way, Heero Yuy felt a lure unlike he had ever felt before. It was as if a web encased his chest and centered on a string being coiled around a long, delicate finger; slowly twirling, patient but powerful in its seduction.

First the right foot took him into the protection of the arch, and then the left drew closer, the right, the left and then the right came up against the first step onto the stairway. Heero peered up and saw a grate that protected those above from stepping through the hole in the sidewalk. Why did he want to walk up a few steps just to collide with a metal grate? He came, he saw, and now it was time to go. Besides, night was just seconds away from falling entirely upon him like so many pounds of black silt. Yet, his left foot had already ascended to the next step, that twirling finger mindless, careless of Heero's desire to leave. Again, the forward movement of a possessed man took over. Another step and another. Even when he had climbed as far as he could, he watched his hand reach for the iron grate. And though he knew darkness was falling, it startled him that the closer his hand got to the grate, the darker his world became.

In the split second before he could feel the cool metal beneath his fingertips, everything went dark. And instead of grabbing a grate…

…a _hand_ grabbed _him._

(O)(O)(O)

Duo had earned his name. He had once been a man, centuries ago. But his body had escaped and with it, his identity. All that had left behind had been _literally_ the shadow of the man that escaped. _The Seventh. _He had been The Seventh, the sacrifice for the knowledge of the other six that were allowed back onto Earth. Or, at least, the man who owned the body who had owned him had been The Seventh. He refused to even use the name of the man who had owned him. He much preferred Duo. The irony of it constantly reminded him of his reality, his world. He was just a thing. A shadow. A shadow without a body to even attach to. He was one thing that needed to be a part of something else. He was single part of what needed to be a duo. Yet…

Duo looked over at the half-man, half-goat that sat in a large oak armchair reading a leather-bound book with little interest. Diablo. The devil. Lucifer, as he hated to be called. The devil had given him the last thing in the universe he needed—he had given Duo a soul. A shadow with a soul. The shadow needed a body to follow. The soul needed a body to guide.

Yes, Duo was indeed two things. Two things that hated each other. That were never meant to coexist. That fought each other to the bitter end—an end that would never come.

The devil shut his book and stood, already walking towards the door of the study. "I have business on Earth," he spoke in a voice that was felt in the head and not heard by the ears. Not that Duo really _had_ ears to hear with. Granted, most of the time he maintained the image of a body just to give his two halves some kind of reconciliation. A young man with brilliant cobalt eyes and a wealth of chestnut hair. The devil often took pleasure in yanking on the braided hair. And of course, the fiend took great pleasure in informing Duo that he was about to do the one thing Duo could not—go to Earth. Truly, Duo could walk the earth but he was unseen, unheard, untouched and unable to influence in return. He was as invisible as a gentle breeze but lacked even the power to touch another life. The walls have ears? Those were his. I feel like we're being watched? Those, too, were his eyes. The devil's spy. The perfect spy. A spy with no footsteps, no sound and no trace. And so, while Duo could go to Earth, he could not go as the devil did, as a man of flesh and blood and power.

Just after the devil had left Limbo, something deep in their world stirred. Strange, in this Limbo, he should have been alone. This was the domain for him and the devil alone. That was at least one thing they had in common: they preferred darkness, silence and solidarity. When one worked in opposition to the church, the voices they heard were never in reverie, in praise, in wonder or in quiet pleas. The voices they heard were screams, sobs of denial, anger and even the rare bargainer. Silence was golden. Golden like the city the sound was coming from. The door to Salamanca. Duo raced across time and space to reach the long forgotten portal. Local legend, carefully cultivated by the Celts had discounted every scrap of truth. Even The Seven were now a legend. Seven men that had not only actually existed but had shaped history as they went out into the world with what the devil had taught them. They should have been legendary, not legends. Yet, Salamanca was a city so bogged down in legend that it was impossible to even glean an ounce of truth out of the mess.

So swamped in purposeful confusion that no mortal should have ever known how to get through the portal. Every piece of evidence leading back to the truth of _la Cueva de Salamanca_ had been destroyed, methodically and carefully. There was only one way to enter the portal, only one way to know how…

Whoever it was climbing the stairs was a descendent of The Seven. Duo felt fear grip him, excitement compel him, and shock numb him. When Duo reached the portal he looked down and saw the olive-tinted, callused hand of a mortal man, reaching up as though possessed. Dear God above and Hell below, this man was being lured! There was only one other in this realm besides him, so if Duo had not sent the call, the devil had. Anger swept through Duo like a fire swept over oil. So the devil wanted this man? He'd just see about that.

When the hand finally reached the thin barrier that separated their worlds, Duo gathered all his strength and willpower, reached down and pulled.

Hard.

(O)(O)(O)

The local security guard hastily looked over his shoulder as he awkwardly jogged on stubby legs to the gate that was swinging in the wind. Dear God, how had he forgotten to lock the gate? If his boss ever found out…

When he reached the enclosed area he swept his flashlight up through the levels of staircases and walkways. No sound. No movement. As he made his way back to the gate he cast a quick glance to the stone steps that led to the grate.

No one.

Good.

(O)(O)(O)

Heero at first thought someone had removed the grate and pulled him up through the sidewalk. He thought maybe a guard or a policeman had thrown him up against a wall. He thought it had to be something, anything other than what it seemed.

He was up against a cold stone wall, his eyes unable to adjust to the endless darkness; there was one hand on his racing heart, and another on his face, pulling his attention downward. When his eyes met another pair reality sank in. He was no longer in Salamanca. He was no longer even on Earth. No being had those eyes. No being was so beautiful. Even the greatest artist on earth had not been able to capture such surreal, such _unreal_ beauty.

"Who are you?" the smaller man demanded. "Give me your name! Now!"

Give me your name? At once, it seemed a question of not only where but in what space of time had Heero gone. Despite the innocence in the manner of restraint, Heero decided to free himself. With a hard shove he sent the stranger sprawling. And just as he moved to step around his supposed captor, a part of him that had been silent all his life stepped forward and tried to take control. It was as though his right hand wanted to reach down, help the man up, check to make sure he was okay, apologize…to care for…

Damn it, was it not that hand that got him in this mess in the first place? Heero sharply ignored the hidden desire and began to take cautious steps backwards and away from the beautiful man. He dared not turn and run just yet, for truly, where would he go? Further into darkness? Further away from the only place on this earth he knew? At the moment his reality consisted of two things: the grate and _that _man. He hoped to remedy that soon.

Duo sat on the floor, stunned. How many centuries had it been since he'd felt the touch of another? It hurt and yet the sensation of hurting felt remarkably good. He had no idea how long he sat, analyzing the feel of tenderness on his chest, the burning of his skinned palms. He had forgotten that in this realm, he did exist, unlike on Earth where he was forced to shed this body. When the pain began to fade, Duo stood with a heavy sigh. He could not let this man just take off running. There was nowhere he could go to hide anyways, so why tire him out so much?

"You can give me your name or I can take it from you," Duo warned, his back still turned to this new man. He heard it then, the sound of his acquaintance turning to flee, the barest hiss of shoe soles on the floor. _Poor choice…_Duo thought sympathetically. With a grim smile, he shot his hand in the direction of Heero's body and watched as he stopped in a dead sprint. Duo flicked his wrist and Heero thusly flew into the air as though suspended by his shoulders. Keeping his palm upwardly turned, Duo began to make a slow, lazy circle around Heero to inspect the man. It was clear by his face that he was either in his late twenties or thirties maybe, with the way people aged nowadays. His body was in peak condition and it was obvious he had mixed heritage. "Your name," he reminded.

"Will you take my will from me next?"

"If I must, though, you fail to see my motive. I am not what you should fear. My master is the one you should fear. I may be the only one in the universe who can save you. If I do not know who you are, I cannot find out how you came here. And if I do not know how you came here then I cannot figure a way to get you out whence you came."

Heero wanted to smile, if only just a bit. The man circling him was trying hard to use modern English but was failing just about every other sentence. Small slips that betrayed his habits. So, an immortal being could have habits. Interesting. Not entirely devoid of human faults, it would seem.

"Who is your master?" Heero asked, trying to get a better perspective on the situation.

"Have you no idea?" Duo nearly yelled, his temper growing thin. When Heero gave him a dumb look, Duo growled, "You are one step away from Hell itself, my lack-wit friend."

"Hell," Heero repeated. "There is a physical Hell?"

"Physical?" Duo laughed. "Oh, sweet thing, you no longer live in a land where the laws of physics apply. Nothing here is physical except, perhaps, the things I could do to you…"

The part of him that had reached out and tried to help the braided man came forward again. Heero felt his stomach spasm, his groin tighten and his diaphragm pull hard for air. _The things I could do to you…_

"Heero Yuy. That is my name. Heero Yuy."

_Hidalgo Yuri_. Duo took a staggering step backwards. His shadow screamed in denial and his soul cried out with a joy Duo did not know he was capable of ever feeling...his hand faltered, his concentration broke, causing Heero to fall hard to the floor.

When Heero looked up to see what he had done to earn such treatment, his captor's eyes were far, far away…

(X)(X)(X)

"I am leaving now," Hidalgo called to his wife as she sat in the solar, stitching a tight weave for their infant daughter's new dress.

His wife has long ago stopped responding. Hidalgo was ever coming and going. Such was the way of men. Though her man, her husband, never uttered a word to her as to his affairs, his business. Not a single word. She had learned long ago not to ask for it sent him into a rage. Her mother had wisely counseled her to leave her husband's affairs alone. She should feel blessed for being married to such a wealthy man who had not sired any bastard children in his thirty years on Earth. Be grateful, and be quiet. She listened to the door close and sighed. Yet another evening was beginning in the Yuri estate.

Hidalgo closed the door and sighed. The house was stifling. His clothes were stifling. This heat was stifling. And his life was…suffocating him. He was past the point of discomfort. He ached now for just a whisper of freedom to enter into his restricted life. His noose grew snugger with each passing week and more painful with each month. Yet, for the same reason he couldn't breathe, he could also feel some semblance of release. A man. Marqués de Villena. They had grown up together. Attended school. And fallen in the most forbidden sense of love.

Hidalgo strode to the stables where his fastest mount was saddled and ready. Thanking the stable boy for his diligence, Hidalgo mounted up and tore off through the back streets of Salamanca to the other end of the city where Marqués kept residence alone. Having inherited all his family's fortune with no mother or father alive to demand he marry, Marqués has chosen to remain single despite public skepticism and religious censure.

As usual, when Hidalgo arrived to Marqués' sprawling estate, he was waiting casually in the doorway, his hip propped up against the jamb, arms folded. That was Marqués. He wielded his beauty and intelligence like the deadliest of sabers. His peculiar blue eyes bore deep into Hidalgo's soul, exposing him in a way no one else could. His smug expression, the right side of his lip curled more than the left, indicated he knew what kind of power he held over the most respectable noble in Salamanca.

Hidalgo handed his horse to the waiting stable boy and strode as casually as possible to greet his lover.

"May I inquire as to the health of your family?" Marqués murmured in a voice that put the romance back into the romance language.

"They are all well, I thank you," Hidalgo bit out, his blue eyes narrowing. His companion was in a strange mood today. Distant. Cold.

"Do, come in."

Hidalgo followed Marqués through the house in silence to the back of the estate where Marqués' sinful and sprawling bedroom overlooked the lush scenery of the countryside and the winding river. Gossamer silk hung over the huge poster bed that could fit ten grown men comfortably. Wide, long chaise lounges of velvet offered a change in pace if the bed became too bland. A Persian rug before a huge fireplace for winter excursions. And of course, as massive tub carved right into the floor for another change in scenery. The room was built for sex and housed all kinds of secret compartments for the most sinful of devices. Yet, Hidalgo knew he was Marqués' only lover. His companion had the reputation of a seducer but he was more loyal than the priests were to their faith.

Hidalgo understood Marqués' transformation was a shield, a defense. He had to own his reputation lest it be used against him. He had to weave mystery to avoid anyone seeing too close and discovering the truth. Marqués had become the devilish man he was to keep Hidalgo, respectable and quiet Hidalgo, safe.

"Marqués," Hidalgo tried to begin as the door was locked behind him.

"No!" Marqués hissed, shoving Hidalgo towards the bed. "We shall speak later. For now you will give me precisely what it is I want."

Hidalgo's heart broke in that instant. Of course he would never be able to give Marqués what he desired most. He knew it ate at Marqués worse than any disease that Hidalgo was not his and his alone. That he had to wait patiently and pick of the scraps of time his lover was able to afford him. And while Marqués would never breathe a word of those desires aloud, it came through in the violence and desperation of their lovemaking. More often than not, Hidalgo left Marqués on the bed, unable to stand, unable to do more than hobble for the days that followed. He left Marqués in the physical wreck he already was inside.

And all because Hidalgo was not strong enough to give up on his love for this man.

(X)(X)(X)

"Get up," Duo hissed, his eyes narrowing to slits. "Get up!" he shouted, not waiting for Heero to heed his command, reaching down and pulling the man into a standing position. "Follow me, we need to be quick, I have no idea what time that fucking bastard is due to return."

Well, at least his swearing was up to par, Heero mused as he found himself being dragged behind a man that was half his size and a hundred times his strength.

"Where are we?" Heero demanded. "And who are you?"

"You are in a dimension of Limbo, a sanctuary the devil created; and, as I said, one step away from Hell itself."

"And you are?"

Duo looked back with a smile that caused Heero to trip. Bright white teeth flashed a predatory smile, his eyes exposing Heero to his very core. "I can be whatever you want me to be."

Heero frowned. He had never felt so powerless in his life. Here he had given his name in hopes of some sort of compromise for information and he hadn't learned a damn thing. One minute he had managed to push the man to the ground, the next he was suspended in midair, the next he was crashing to the ground, and then finally, he was being dragged by a man he had so easily pushed to the floor.

"Where are we going?"

"I am not going anywhere. You, however…" Duo died off, his mind racing through all the portals on earth. Where would Heero be safest until he could figure out what was going on? Where would the devil look last? "Scotland," he answered at long last. The highlanders still held a small group of druid followers that still understood the power of the standing stones. "You should be safe there long enough."

"Long enough for what?"

"For me to figure out why the devil wants to get his hands on you."

"The devil…wants me?"

"No one stumbles into his own private liar by accident, foolish mortal. You were drawn to the portal, you were lured to walk up those stairs and reach through that metal grate."

"If he wants me so badly, why wasn't he the one to pull me into this realm?"

Duo halted so suddenly that Heero actually collided with the shorter man. Duo whirled around. "Why, indeed," he growled, not believing he hadn't thought of that first. So convenient for the devil to leave just as Heero Yuy, a direct descendent of The Seven, arrived—leaving Duo to snatch him from the portal. "No matter for now. I will deal with this."

"Why are you helping me?"

Duo felt his soul cry out words of love and devotion. He felt his shadow turn black and violent with resentment. And he landed somewhere in between. "You are of little importance to me, mortal, but I find meaning in eternity to cross with the devil whenever I can do so. Consider yourself a pawn."

When Heero didn't speak, Duo looked over his shoulder, having already continued his fast march across the endless darkness.

"Does it not surprise you that your mortal soul, your fragile life, is just a piece on a board we control?" Duo mocked.

"No, I suppose it isn't so surprising when humans use others, whose lives and souls should be equal, as pawns for their own gain. I was a soldier once," Heero murmured. "And what are soldiers if not pawns?"

Anger rolled over Duo like a tidal wave. Did this man not understand? Any second his life would be forfeit and no one here would cry for him, mourn him, care that they had snapped their fingers and subsequently snapped his neck. Was he trying to be so calm as to evoke some kind of desired response or did this man just not give a fuck?

"If only those who went to Hell were as understanding as you," Duo groused. "No martyrs here."

"How did _you_ end up here?"

"I played a dangerous game with the devil and lost."

Heero scoffed. "You don't look like the kind of man that just happened to get the short end of the stick."

"Oh, do I not?" Duo mocked, not daring to look back at the quiet but assured knowing that would be stamped on the man's face. "Might it amuse you to learn that I am not a _man_ at all? That what you see is merely a disguise?"

"Even the joker has to paint his own face."

"Oh. My. God! If you were not a descendent of one of The Seven, I would just let him have you, you insolent prick! Now, jump down this hole and when you orient yourself, head north to a small town. Look for a man named…his surname should be MacAlpin. Find his kin and they shall give you shelter. Return to the stones in three day's time. Do you understand me?"

Heero nodded.

"Listen to me and heed me well," Duo hissed, grabbing the man by the collar and pulling him down until they were nose-to-nose. "I cannot leave this realm. There is no way for me to come find you. You _have to_ be back in the stones in three day's time exactly or you are worse off than a dead man. Do you truly understand me?"

"Yes," Heero nodded again.

"Your word?"

"Yes, you have my word."

"No, say 'I, Heero Yuy, give you my solemn word.'"

"I, Heero Yuy, give you my solemn word," Heero snapped back, his confusion riding hard on his temper.

"Well done, my unfortunate mortal," Duo murmured, pulling Heero down to capture his lips briefly in a kiss. Worlds collided as lips gently met. Duo felt the universe tilt beneath his feet as the cosmos whirled above his head. Night became day and eternity, a second. His soul leapt forward, weeping with joy, strength renewed. His shadow, however, grew dangerously quiet. Duo pulled back, forcing his soul to remain with him. He hid his shock, hid his fear, behind a mask of indifference. At least his body was well trained. "Now, Go." With a hard shove he pushed Heero through the portal, watching him fall to the hard, unforgiving ground.

(O)(O)(O)

"I have returned, did you miss me?" the devil purred, running a long nail down the side of Duo's face.

"Were you expecting company?" Duo asked idly, sitting long-ways in his favorite red-velvet armchair. Two long legs dangling provocatively over the edge as he examined the end of his braid.

The devil whirled around. "Where is he?"

"Master, if you were expecting company, you should have informed me prior to your departure."

"Why? What did you do to him?" the devil demanded, grabbing Duo's hair by the roots and pulling back with a neck-wrenching snap.

"I tucked him away and he will stay tucked away until you tell me why the descendent of Hidalgo Yuri came knocking."

"Ah, so you recognized him," Lucifer noted, his eyes narrowing with intent.

"He gave up his name with some difficulty. Heero Yuy and Hidalgo Yuri are not exactly hard pieces to put together. Now, why did he come here?"

"Duo, my diabolical Duo. You are protecting the man! I knew you would! After all these centuries, Marqués is still in you."

Duo growled low in his throat but knew better than to challenge the devil. "Why, _master_, did you summon Heero Yuy?"

"I sent six men, armed forever with the darkest of knowledge, back out into the world for one reason and one reason only—to breed vessels. Bodies that one day you could inhabit and exploit that ancient knowledge I infused into them all those centuries ago if the unthinkable ever happened."

"What is happening?" Duo ground out, not really wanting to hear what put such a guarded look in the devil's eye.

"In a week, God will send down a fallen angel. The only man that can destroy him or ensnare him is you Duo. The Seventh. The chosen. You drew that fateful card…only you possess the ability to defeat the Fallen."

Duo felt his heart stutter. A curious feeling he'd not experienced in well over three hundred years. He had only ever thought the Seventh was a sacrifice, not an investment. The brutal truth caught in his throat…Marqués de Villena had not been the destined one. He had used the knowledge the devil himself had given him to _make_ himself the Seventh; to spare Hidalgo…

(X)(X)(X)

The first man drew his card. Blank.

The second man drew his. Blank.

The third. Blank.

The fourth. Blank.

The fifth. Blank.

Marqués closed his eyes, knowing what he must do. Regardless of the card he drew, he would use the same powers the devil had given him to fashion his card to be the doomed one. Hidalgo sat beside him, eyes wide with fear and concern. Marqués knew Hidalgo wanted to draw the card. That his lover was desperate to save him. Just like Hidalgo, always fighting with his ironclad conscience. Always wanting to save the day. Was it not time that his love realize that he had too much on Earth waiting for him when Marqués had nothing at all? Just heartache, loathing glares, and cold, hard money.

Marqués, _the sixth_, drew his card, opened his eyes and then went as stiff as a board. It was blank for a split second as Marqués realized Hidalgo would have drawn the cursed card. Then, reaching for the darkness that came so readily to the devil's brightest student, he transferred the "X" from the remaining slip to his. He gasped and looked at the devil as though he could not believe it had been him.

The devil looked at him with purpose. With the kind of knowledge that implied Marqués had no idea just what he had done by drawing that card. The devil did not want just another soul. He wanted a particular one. And apparently, it was Marqués' that he wanted.

(X)(X)(X)

To this day, Duo had never told the devil what his former master, Marqués, had done. He thought that it was Duo who possessed the particular chemistry to defeat a fallen angel and use a lesser being such as the last remaining descendent to use as a vessel.

But the roles were reversed. Marqués had fooled the devil himself that fateful day and now…now it was Duo that held the power without the ability, and Heero that had the ability but lacked the power.

Duo looked up at the devil and in that moment he saw a creature he hardly recognized. The half-man, half-goat standing before a raging fire looked like a tormented soul.

"What interest do you have in saving mankind?" Duo asked warily.

"Have you heard the mortal phrase, 'Satan's spawn'?"

"Yes," Duo breathed, unable to believe what the devil was about to tell him.

"It is true, my beauty. I have investments on earth as well…and when that angel does fall in six day's time…well…you were a religious man once, I needn't tell you the consequences."

Duo had told Heero to meet him in three days time…that only gave him three days to formulate a plan and three days to execute it.

"Forgive me, master," Duo spoke wearily, rubbing at his sore eyes.

The devil turned slowly, having never heard such remorse in all his existence.

"I loved him," Duo whispered. "Or rather…Marqués loved him…"

"Duo…" the devil began slowly, a look of sheer terror engulfing his features.

"You were deceived. Marqués was _The Sixth._ The vessel, Heero Yuy, descendant of Hidalgo Yuri, was the destined _Seventh_."

"Oh…no…" the devil breathed.

Duo stood slowly and then knelt before his master. "I sent him to Scotland while I endeavored to discover why you summoned him. He is alive though for what purpose now, I do not know."

"He is on Earth?"

"Yes."

The devil reached down and pulled Duo up by his collar so that his feet hung limply in the air as the devil's red eyes burned right through Duo's. "You will possess him, and in three, at the most four, days I expect you to be fully prepared to face the Fallen."

"He will not come back to the stones for another three days under my command and both you and I know that I cannot possess a soul without permission…he would have to _hear_ me to grant it...and I can't be heard on Earth."

"Then I will just have to go get him myself, now won't I?" the devil snarled as he threw Duo to the ground. "While I am gone, I want you in that library, reacquainting yourself with every spell, every weave and every incantation of the Dark Arts known. Though destined you were not, you were my greatest student."

"I, Duo, give you my solemn word."

The devil nodded and turned in the direction of the portal Duo had put Heero Yuy through. He stopped halfway out of the room. "You say that Marqués loved Hidalgo, and that is why he deceived me?"

"Yes," Duo admitted. "Or at least, that is what my soul remembers."

The devil seemed to recede within himself for a moment before speaking again, "and how did you react to him this time?"

"My soul wanted to save him and my shadow wanted to kill him."

"Now, that _is_ a problem. Perhaps our gravest."

Without another word, the devil was gone, racing towards the portal.

_Now, that_ is _a problem. Perhaps our gravest._

Though the fire raged throughout their study, and though Duo only wore the guise of a mortal man, he felt a very real shiver run down a spine he was not supposed to actually have…


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

Heero felt the cool earth beneath his back, saw the clouds floating in a darkening grayish-blue sky. Yet, all he was able to comprehend was that kiss. That small whisper inside of him that had wanted to help that…that…_man, or thing, or whatever,_ back up from the ground, that wanted to soothe as he had raged all the way across Limbo—that small whisper, had grown. Bloomed. Exploded from a previously undiscovered epicenter; his heart. No first kiss was like that. The kiss had been such a practiced move, so well rehearsed that it yielded effortless passion. Their lips had met at just the right angle, Heero knowing that he was to put his thinner lips more expressly on the man's fuller bottom lip. Electricity had crossed the distance between them and Heero could feel the man's instantaneous elation—as though a lover had come home at last. But the soldier in him had not missed that deadly thing, that quiet hatred that had settled low, content to sit back and bide its time, but not forever.

"What on Earth…?"

Heero sat up, his eyes colliding with a tall, thin man dressed casually in jeans and a green shirt that matched his emerald eyes perfectly.

"Are you okay? Are you lost?"

Heero stood slowly, feeling a sharp pain shoot up his back from where he had landed. He was lucky it was his back that hurt and not his head. He could not afford a concussion right now with how screwed up reality already was. He needed to get his facts straight and keep them that way because he could very well find himself in Istanbul tomorrow, no passport required. _Just one incredibly hot being_, the devil on his shoulder reminded him. "I…I was just…" Heero died off. "Admiring the environment."

"And have you any idea what you're admiring?"

"Do you?" Heero retorted.

Silence was his only response.

"Are you a MacAlpin?"

"Who are you?" the man bit out between clenched teeth, looking ready to chase Heero down if he showed any signs of trying to flee. Though, Heero had already learned his lesson about running for the day.

"Heero Yuy." No point in withholding his name anymore, he figured.

"How did you get here?"

"Are you a MacAlpin?" Heero pressed.

"I go by the name of Trowa Barton here, but yes, I am a MacAlpin by blood and…responsibility."

Heero just pointed to the sky. "_That's_ where I came from."

"Heaven?"

"No, just up there somewhere. I walked up these stone steps in Salamanca, the next thing I know I'm in this…dark _place_ with some_thing_ and then he tells me to find a man with the surname MacAlpin just before he pushed me out of wherever I was and then I fell here." No need to mention the kiss that was consuming all of his senses still.

"Come with me. Now. Don't say a word if anyone talks to you—let me handle it. When does Duo want you back?"

"Duo? That is his name?"

"Yes, the man that sent you here, his name is Duo. Though, in the history books you will find him as Marqués de Villena—or at least, the man he was once. He is not a man."

"What is he?"

"We will discuss this later," Trowa snapped, physically taking Heero by the wrist and dragging him along.

_What is it with these people and dragging others around?_ Heero was relieved that they did not come across another rabbit hole but rather just a rabbit itself. A Volkswagen Rabbit.

"Get in."

"What were you doing here?"

"I just knew to come here; it's a part of my job. When does Duo want you back?"

"In three day's time."

Trowa was quiet as he started the car up and began to drive down the nearly invisible dirt path. "I shall take you to my home then. You'll be safe there and we will not have to fabricate a story."

"Can you tell me what's going on?"

"All I can tell you is that you somehow opened a portal to Limbo, were pulled in by Duo, who then brought you here. You are lucky he didn't kill you. At times I truly wonder if he is more evil than the devil himself."

"Why would you say that?"

"The devil is there by choice; he rules his domain; he has a purpose. Duo…Duo is caged and tortured by the constant illusion that he has choice, power and purpose when all it is just that—an illusion constructed by the very being that made Duo what he was in the first place—two halves of wholes that cannot coexist."

"And does not the devil's complacency breed the evil that is in him?"

"The devil is hardly evil as you think of it," Trowa scoffed. "He is balance. He is nature. Where there is light, it must come from dark. Where there is good, it must come from bad. God, heaven and everything holy could never be if they had nothing that exemplified the opposite. If there is no bad, how do you know what is good?"

"So…Christianity had it right?"

Trowa could not hold back a bitter laugh. "Heero, that is your name? Heero, there is truth to every legend and history behind every future. The universe is not as neat and organized as you would like to believe. Everyone has the right of it as much as they have it wrong."

Heero tried to imagine God living in a house next door to Buddha and across the street from Zeus. He had heard the collectivist theories but a neighborhood of gods that all held their own houses in a realm that was unfathomable by humans…now that was an apocalyptic thought.

"Don't think too hard over it," Trowa murmured. "You're in enough trouble as it is. Duo didn't kill you, which means he wants something out of you."

"Actually, I think it was the devil that wanted me for something—Duo may have pulled me in but it wasn't he that lured me." Heero sat up straighter in the seat. "Do you know anything about The Seven?"

The car swerved minutely as Trowa's head whipped to the right to glare Heero down. "What did Duo say about The Seven?"

"That…that I was a descendant?"

"He should have just killed you when he had the chance," Trowa whispered under his breath.

"So, you do know the story of The Seven."

"Pay attention because I'm only going to tell this story once and you're going to need to know it well when I am finished."

Heero felt a weird sinking in the pit of his stomach. Move to Madrid. Take a vacation to Salamanca. Walk up a set of ancient stairs. Get yanked into Limbo. Get thrown into Scotland. And all he ever wanted out of the last twenty-four hours was an explanation. And yet, now that it was being handed to him, he had a horrible feeling that maybe he didn't want to hear this after all…

(O)(O)(O)

The devil dropped into the standing stones as night fell over Scotland. Ah, Scotland, perhaps the most faithful of all the lands to maintain their rightful superstition. And while a scientist could go to work, look under a microscope, and write books claiming to contain the richest facts of mankind within its pages, that same man could go home in Scotland and line his home with various charms to ward of banshees and, well, the devil himself.

The devil took on a new disguise this time. One he had never worn in all the years of his existence. He wore a chestnut braid, brilliant cobalt eyes, a fairy's face and a small but sinewy body. Ah, to be Duo without the internal agony. The devil would never admit it but his gravest mistake had been with Duo. He would never forget the days that his so-called prodigal Seventh would rage and scream and claw at his makeshift body for some kind of release. A shadow without anything to follow. So when Marqués had died, the devil honestly thought he'd be doing Duo a favor by fusing the two, the shadow and the soul, together. They _had_ belonged to the same body after all. If only he had known the monster he was creating. As the devil walked slowly through the thick grass towards the road he pondered what Hidalgo had been like as a man. What it would have been like if Marqués had not challenged fate.

(X)(X)(X)

Hidalgo sat quietly staring at the small spider in the palm of his hand. With the lesson the devil had just bestowed upon them, he should have been able to set the tiny creature alight. Yet, he always faltered at this point. He understood everything conceptually, could explain just as well to anyone how to do it but…a life, any life, was the spark needed for hellfire. He glanced around the circle. Five others were struggling still to figure the spell out. Then his eyes landed on Marqués. Those cobalt eyes stared back at him, asking silently if Hidalgo had the courage to do what it took. Of course he could kill a spider but was he willing to do what the spell really required—the willingness to take a life?

"_Mirad_," the devil breathed, sitting forward as he realized Marqués was about to complete the lesson when no one else could…or would. _Watch_, he had breathlessly commanded his students.

All eyes turned to the braided man as he held his palm out and with a cocky grin proceeded to engulf the spider in flames.

The devil raised an eyebrow when Marqués did not look his way but rather, in the direction of Hidalgo, his least promising of all the students. The one with a conscience leagues in berth, and a sense of morality that no clergy could even lay claim to. Not that Marqués hadn't understood the symbolic representation behind the exercise, he did; but it hadn't stopped him. It had brought even a rueful smile to his face.

(X)(X)(X)

The devil had been sure from the beginning that Marqués had been the destined one. The one that could look at the face of an angel and destroy it. How stupid he had been! Marqués had done everything in his power to save an angel—Hidalgo. He'd be the last person on Earth to destroy the fallen angel due to touch down in six days.

The devil reached the road and looked down at the fresh tire tread in the dirt. Now it was just a matter of following those to wherever they led and finding Heero before anyone else saw him.

(O)(O)(O)

Duo sat in the library pouring over books that had once been burned into his brain. He detested now how this knowledge made him feel so powerful. It was a lie, an illusion, nothing more. The power of the mind was utterly useless until given a medium by which to demonstrate it. His shadow leapt forward, basking in the assurance that very soon it would have a body to attach to, to blend with. But his soul had taken a quiet backseat, choosing to look at the information in a more pragmatic light. When he inhabited Heero's body (an unappealing thought by itself) he would have to use this information against any and all that got in his way. Justice would have to be done but, whose brand of justice was this exactly?

"It was you, if I recall correctly, that had no qualms whatsoever about becoming the prodigal student," Duo snapped aloud, flipping another page to accentuate his point to the soul within him. Then Duo realized, if Marqués hadn't drawn the devil's attention, Hidalgo would have not gotten away even when he drew the blank card. The devil hadn't looked closely because he had already anticipated Marqués selection. "I really loved him, didn't I?" _You do_. The voice was solemn, tired and wistful. _He was…everything…_

(X)(X)(X)

Marqués just let his body collapse under Hidalgo's. The silence was filled by sighs of contentment and ragged breathing. This was the only time life seemed worth living. He looked at a strand of long hair that extended to the edge of the bed from where he had fallen. He had not cut his hair since the day Hidalgo was promised to his wife. How the years had gone…

"Marqués, please," Hidalgo murmured, burying his face against the crux of the smaller man's neck. He had no idea how much longer he could bear the guilt. The man beneath him looked like his lover, sounded like him but…it wasn't him and Hidalgo knew he had himself to blame. All the men in his circle had affairs and were known to be gone for days, weeks and even months with vague excuses of business or masculine leisure. Yet, he had never been able to bring himself to be one of those men. He wanted to be a good husband. He wanted to raise his children and support his wife. He respected her, sympathized for her position, and they got along amiably. It certainly wasn't her fault that Hidalgo was in the position he was in.

"You have not changed one bit," Marqués sighed. "Not since we were boys in school have you changed and I cannot even look in the mirror and recognize the man staring back at me," he said as though reading the other's mind.

"Can we not even be happy, even a moment's worth?"

Marqués moved enough to indicate he wanted Hidalgo off of him. When at last the man did move, Marqués stood and padded naked over to the armoire. "In a week's time one of The Seven will not be leaving the classroom. I will be happy when that man is me."

"Marqués!" Hidalgo shouted, uncaring of who heard in that moment.

"I am too tired of this existence, Hidalgo. I cannot love half of a man." Marqués hesitated for a moment. "You have not made love to me since we were eighteen."

"I beg your pardon," Hidalgo snapped, looking down at the bed beneath him.

"That? You fucked me. Your mind drifted as you beat your body into mine. And it felt fantastic. It always has with your diligence and commitment to perfection. Yet, it was just that—a man atop another."

Hidalgo sat, stunned for a moment. He felt as though a dagger had sunk deep into his chest. The pain was real and palpable.

"Go home to your wife and your children, Hidalgo. Kiss them and love them well for in a week's time we shall both play a deadly game against an unforgiving foe. Your time is wasted here."

"Marqués, why? Why are you doing this?"

Marqués spun around, fully dressed, his hair in a mass of waves cascading freely down his black-clad body. He stormed over to the bed, grabbed Hidalgo by the back of his head and yanked him forward into a bruising, punishing kiss. When he released his lover he leveled his gaze. "Why?" he whispered. "Because there is a part of me that hates you as much as there is a part of me that loves you. You have treated me unfairly at every turn yet you are a man that stands on the principle of fairness. You have given a majority of your life to a woman that will never love you and hardly any to a man that will do so until the end of time. I have stood quietly, stoically, ever being the man you needed me to be when you could no longer be what I needed. And for what reason? To please whom? This is your morality, my love. Hurt one to help a hundred. And through all of it, _all_ _of it_, I love you, and I want to die loving you. I pray it is I who cannot be released back onto this earth when the cards are drawn. I can no longer live in your world." Marqués pressed a slow kiss to the trembling lips of his lover. "That is the truth, Hidalgo. You know. I know. And it has to be said before our time is through."

"Marqués—I—"

Another bruising kiss. This time, Marqués felt tears on his lover's face. "You are a good man, Hidalgo and I love you too much to stand in the way of that for much longer. I am like a shadow that weighs too much to be a seamless part of your being. Now get dressed and go home. You have tarried here long enough."

Marqués turned and left the room. He strode silently through his small palace, breathing deeply the night air as he made his way to the entrance of his home where he again leaned his hip on the doorframe and waited for Hidalgo to emerge, beaten and broken down. Marqués held back tears. He had to send Hidalgo back to his wife this way. It was the only way he knew to bring them closer. Make Hidalgo seek refuge in his wife. Each word from his mouth had killed him little by little until he felt hollow with grief and despair. Yet he knew, outwardly, that he looked as beautiful and serene as ever. He had ever been a master of the arts, of the deception the arts entailed. So he shuffled cards in his hand as he waited, and sure enough, Hidalgo emerged, dressed perfectly though looking less constructed than his attire.

"Marqués," he tried one last time.

"Come to me the night before judgment. I will not oblige you a moment sooner."

Hidalgo sighed. "I am sorry for what I have done."

"You are a good man," Marqués repeated, shuffling the cards with blinding efficiency.

"Until the next time."

"Until the last time," Marqués whispered after him, watching Hidalgo mount up and take off at a dangerous speed from the estate.

Just as the horse was out of sight, Marqués separated one of the cards from the deck. One second it was blank and the next…

…it had an X on it.

(X)(X)(X)

Duo analyzed the memory. Strange how his soul chose such a heartbreaking moment to show him the depth of the love he had for that man. _Strange? We don't often realize how much we love someone until they are slipping through our fingers…_

Nor did one realize how resentful they could feel until facing the reason for centuries of suffering. When his shadow had recognized Heero for whom he was, Duo had wanted to kill Heero as slowly and as thoroughly as he had wanted to kiss him. His shadow whispered that he was willing to have it both ways.

"I don't need to be studying these books!" Duo roared, throwing one across the room, exploding into a rage that sent him pacing, reeling around the room. "That's it! We are settling this once and for _all_." Upon the final word Duo's body ceased to exist and a black shadow reflected up against the wall, shimmering from the firelight that was cast upon it. In the center of the room was a faint orb of light, here and then gone and then ebbing brighter again.

Each regarded the other for long, yawning minutes. And then the fighting began.

(O)(O)(O)

Heero stared up at the ceiling. He pondered the statement, "be careful what you wish for." Had he wished not to be lonely anymore? Had he wished for a life separate from what the Preventers offered him? He remembered feeling confused as to his purpose, his happiness in life. But wait, wasn't he just pondering this yesterday in Salamanca? Oh but time seemed to have taken on a different dimension since he ascended those stairs. That man. That kiss. But he liked women and he liked keeping his hands, arms, feet, lips, everything to himself.

"It's understandable that you're conflicted."

Heero shot up in bed, his eyes darting to the window where the silhouette of a compact man and a very familiar braid stood.

"Duo."

Duo stepped out of the shadows, an apologetic but slightly sarcastic smirk upon his face. "Who else? The devil?"

"Do you know what he wants with me?"

"You need to be alive and well for what he has in mind for you, have no fear for your life, mortal."

"What does he want to do with my life, then?" Heero pressed, feeling worse by the second.

"Do you always ask the right questions? Do the right thing?"

"I try."

"But do you succeed, Heero Yuy?"

"Yes. I believe I do."

Duo sat down at the edge of the bed. "Here," he said casually, holding out a closed hand and indicating Heero should hold out his. When Heero offered his palm, Duo released a small spider into it. "You know how to light this small creature on fire. The knowledge is within you. Show it to me."

"Just…think about setting it on fire and it will?"

"All living creatures are at your mercy; this spider is an example of your power. Just will it done and it shall be so."

"Just will his life away. For what purpose?"

"If I told you that you could save all of mankind by doing it?"

"Then sure."

"Do it."

"Well, is mankind in danger right now?"

"In six days it will be."

"What will happen in six days?"

"Trust me. Now ignite the spider."

Heero looked down at the spider in his palm. Déjà vu hit him like a ton of bricks. He knew it was wrong. If he gave an inch now he would just cave later.

"You need to practice this or when the time comes and you reach for this ability it will not be instantaneous."

"What did this spider do?"

"You are not God! God has already passed judgment and this spider will destroy mankind if you don't destroy him first!"

Heero leaned down and put the spider on the floor where it quickly scurried into the dark. "I'm sorry but…"

Duo stood and stormed over to the window. "In six days, Heero, a fallen angel will be in the palm of your hand. He will start wars, famines, massacres, diseases all about the earth. He will turn brothers against brothers and men against women _if_ you don't stop him. That is not a lie and you would do well to accept the fact that you will have to kill that creature." Duo sighed and looked up at the full moon. "Destined as you may be, are you a disappointment as ever."

Heero watched Duo vault from the window and disappear into the night. Why had Duo come to visit him when he was supposed to return after three days? Had Duo been unable to sleep or do whatever it is he did to relax? Heero turned his palm upward and stared at the empty space where the spider had been. When he looked up he saw the memory of a pair of cobalt eyes, wry with pain and smoky with arrogance as the spider lit in his hand; the small flames dancing off the brilliant blue irises. _No…my love, what have you become? _

_Only the devil himself could do better._

"Heero?"

Heero startled out of his convoluted daydream and walked to the door and opened it for Trowa. "Yes? What's up?"

"I heard talking…are you…okay?"

"Duo was just here."

"How would you possibly know that? Did you sense him?"

"No. He just showed up in my room, plain as day."

"Physically? You saw him physically?"

"Yes. He put a spider in my hand and told me to light it on fire."

"_Shit!_ We have to leave, right now! Scotland is no longer safe for you. Shit, shit, shit!" Trowa hissed under his breath. "Try to pack some clothes that look like they'll fit you. I am going to get some cash and get the car ready. We're out of here in thirty minutes."

"If that wasn't Duo in my room, who was it?" Heero called to Trowa as the man flew into a silent storm of action and progress, his face set into harsh and determined planes.

"The only man that would dare impersonate Duo—the devil, Heero. Satan was just in your room."

"But…why?"

"Why?" Trowa called as he ran down the stairs. "Who knows why? You're alive and lucky to be so. I have got to get you out of here."

"And in three days when I need to be back?"

Trowa stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked up. "You won't be here." He stated firmly before turning and running into another room.

Heero felt a wave of nausea roll over him. The devil hadn't lied. Something terrible was about to happen in six days. He had to be at those standing stones in three day's time. If Heero really wasn't needed the devil would have killed him, he knew that much, because he had felt the detachment in the being sitting next to him. He was alive because he still had a purpose. Heero felt his heart rate slow down and his breathing grow deep and stable. He knew what he had to do and he knew he had the ability to do it. Silently, in perfect harmony with the darkness and his stealth, Heero gathered a backpack full of clothes and some cash (memorizing the amount so as to return it someday) and then judged the distance from the window to the ground. He'd make it if he rolled right out of the fall. Looking back over his shoulder he glanced at the open door.

"I'm sorry Trowa but the real Duo…I trust him. I can't leave Scotland."

Without another word or thought, Heero slipped as quietly from the mansion as the devil had, melting into the night as though he was just another shadow amongst the millions.

(O)(O)(O)

AN: thank you reviewers! Encouragement is much needed when I have homework staring me in the face while this story taps its foot. Hope everyone in the United States has a happy Thanksgiving!! Warmest wishes to everyone and again, I'm a shallow human being, reviews are much appreciated (criticism, too, dear friends). Chao.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: So, just to make sure we're all good here: Heero is a man. Duo is a man. Heero and Duo have a romantic history and a sensual present together as chapters will henceforth reflect. And just in case you're not into that, best not to consider onward. This chapter itself isn't _too_ bad but I figured it would be a good time to point out the obvious in accordance with the website. (in low ominous voice) You've been warned. Also, refer to the AN at the end for some language clarification! Enjoy!

**Chapter Three**

Hidalgo kissed his wife's cheek and smiled at her tenderly. "I shall be gone but for two nights. I am afraid my cousin is in desperate need of some counsel. You shall hardly notice my absence."

"But I do, husband."

"I swear to never make these outings a habit. I do wish to be a good father and husband," Hidalgo vowed with another kiss to her forehead.

"I believe you."

"Farewell," Hidalgo called as he walked from the door and into the dimming skies of the evening.

It was the first time in his life he ever rode leisurely to Marqués house. He wanted to remember every tree, every bend in the road. He wanted memories and emotions to wash over him. He wanted to feel the giddiness that this ride brought him. The fantasies, the anticipation, the tenderness of his love…all of it. He could no longer take even a second for granted. He sensed that this was the end. That Marqués really was not coming back after tomorrow night. Autumn was just upon them and the leaves were beginning to turn, offering a spray of green, yellow and orange. All the colors filtered the sun like stained glass. Too soon, much too soon, the estate was in sight. How was it that these rides had felt so long before?

Marqués was standing in the doorway as usual, shuffling a blank set of cards, and occasionally flipping one out before reshuffling the entire deck. But those eyes never left his true target—Hidalgo. When he arrived to the doorway, the cards were nowhere in sight.

"Have you taken to gambling?" Hidalgo asked, looking to see if the cards had been slipped into one of Marqués' pockets.

"It would seem we both have—I just choose to practice more frequently. Luck has never been my forte. Do, come in."

They walked in silence, as they always did, to the bedroom where food would be waiting for them so they would not need to reemerge until the following day. Marqués opened the door for Hidalgo and then locked the door behind them from the inside, insuring they would be undisturbed for the next hours to come. Hidalgo walked over to large span of window panes that revealed the vast terrain. At times, Marqués' house felt like the edge of civilization. They were the last two men to stand within the borders of the city—within society.

"I trust all is well with you and yours?" Marqués said casually, offering a small glass of wine to his companion.

"Yes, they are all well."

"Good." Marqués downed his glass and then set it aside. "Do you remember our first time?"

Hidalgo smirked and let out a low chuckle. "Yes, it was horrible. We hadn't a clue as to what we were doing. We both swore it off for months."

Marqués laughed with him for a moment and then sighed. "Do you remember the first time it was good?"

"I shall never forget. Should my soul carry on into eternity, I shall carry the memory with me always. Marqués you are the only one I shall ever love, the only one I shall ever choose."

"I want tonight to be as powerful as that memory, if not more so," Marqués spoke in a low voice, slowly unbraiding his hair. "I want _this_ to carry into eternity. I want all of our love, our joy, our sorrow and our determination to come together on this night to start a ripple that will transverse through time."

Hidalgo turned and regarded his lover. It felt as though that at dawn, they would face the executioner's block. They had known since their first kiss, stolen in the darkness, up against the wall of the cathedral, that their love was forbidden and would be carried to their grave. They would die with this in their hearts, under their skin. It would only end with their death and not a moment sooner.

"I love you," Hidalgo whispered, the words being torn from his throat as he reached forward to pull Marqués into his arms.

Their mouths met, tongues glided, breaths became ragged. Patience walked a fine wire above a pit of desperation. Hidalgo's fingers wound tightly into the silky locks of hair and he squeezed his eyes closed, frantic to remember every texture, every scent and every sound. Marqués had always been a man of the senses. He threw himself into every experience they shared. He cried out when pleasure spiked him, he groaned when his frustration built. They took their time in removing each article of clothing, of exploring each new expanse of skin that was exposed thusly. Again, Hidalgo found himself horrified by how quickly time passed. When they collapsed on the bed, he felt panic engulf him. There was never going to be enough time and he had spent the last fourteen years wasting time. Fourteen years he could have followed his heart, given his affection and devotion to Marqués instead of passing each slow, agonizing hour at home, over legers, raising children and sitting through council meetings. Marqués had always been here, waiting, ever waiting and he had let over a decade pass in such a manner. How was it he only had fourteen hours, maybe, left to make up for fourteen years?

"I am sorry," Hidalgo whispered, pressing reverent kisses along the length of Marqués neck.

"Do not apologize for the man you are—for it is he I am in love with. Please, Hidalgo, make love to me, not sorrow or regret."

Hidalgo closed his eyes for a second, trying to reconcile the differences within himself. He wanted to spend the rest of their time together assuring Marqués of his love, of his personality, of his worth. Yet, there was another part of him that wanted to get lost in the comfort of their bodies, to just make a memory that would have to last a lifetime.

Marqués tilted his head up just enough to bite down on his lover's earlobe before easing the sting with his tongue. "I have tied you down before, my love, must I do that once again to get what I want?"

Hidalgo couldn't stop the shiver the ran down his spine as he remembered the time Marqués had used silk to blind him; bind him and then bring him screaming to his end.

"I have a strand of it tucked under the pillow, just enough to bring you to completion as I did then…remember how that silk felt wrapped tight and cool against you?"

Hidalgo hardly needed the memory when all he had to do was listen to Marqués' voice. He decided to put his regret aside and throw himself into the task before him. His eyes opened and determination steeled. "There is something I would much rather prefer to have around me, gripping me tight and _hot_."

"There's my lover," Marqués purred with contentment, throwing his arms around Hidalgo's shoulders and letting his head fall back as his man went to work. Even time so short was not as sweet as the time his lover's mouth spent on him.

(X)(X)(X)

"Enough!" Duo groaned, rolling over and grabbing his head. "For all that is sacred, grant me a memory that is useful!"

_The moment he drew the card, his life was over. He escaped Limbo when he heard that Hidalgo had joined the ranks of mercenaries fighting for the Catholics. You crept up to his tent one night and placed an illness upon him that ultimately sent him home to recover. Once he was safe and unable to leave the city, you retreated to some obscure village outside of Salamanca and carried out the rest of your life hiding from the devil and Hidalgo. _

"Where were you supposed to go when Marqués died?" Duo asked his soul, refusing to acknowledge that he and Marqués were one in the same.

_Where do you think? Whatever had you done in your life that would merit you suffered for eternity in Hell?_

"Well, you have my sympathy that instead of ascending, you were brought to spend eternity with us."

_This is where I belong._

"Duo! Rouse yourself! There is work to be done! We have two days until Heero will be in the stones."

"How did your visit go?" Duo asked smugly. "He still wouldn't even singe the spider?"

"Of course he did not. The man is incompetent."

"Incompetent but the destined Seventh."

"Duo," the devil said in a voice so low, it was almost impossible to hear. Red eyes dulled to maroon. "There is something at work here. At times I wonder if this is the way it was all meant to work out in the end and the threat of a random card draw was designed to draw _you_ to the forefront. Hidalgo would not have tried to manipulate the cards. No one would have. Maybe all this time it was always supposed to be you."

"A theory hatched out of desperation, my lord."

The devil's eyes burned brightly for a moment and then receded. "Duo, you have lived long amongst power and divinity yet I was there from the start and I tell you this—some events are _meant_ to transpire. When a man says that this or that has 'a way of working itself out' well it does. The universe does. Do you think I or God or any other deity with such power has the ability to alter the universe? Duo, power is not in the ability to manipulate. It is in the ability to accept. Whatever you think is up there, God, Allah, Jupiter, all of them, whatever; they are up there because they have the power to accept the universe as it is. And that is true power, my tortured one."

_The power to accept…_ How Duo had raged through the night just trying to do that. If anyone needed some divine intervention, it was him. Could his mind and his makeshift body work as a medium by which his two halves could just simply accept their reality? If it was as simple as understanding that this is just how it has to be, could he grow and adapt and prosper? All along was it that simple? Accept. Put every doubt aside and accept. It felt like falling. It felt like all his anger, his pain, and his frustration had amounted to nothing.

"Look at me, Duo," the devil said in a quiet voice.

When Duo looked up he saw the devil in a form he'd never seen before. The man had black robes, a black beard, black eyes and dark skin. The antichrist. "I accept what I am. I accept my place in this universe. That is my power. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Duo breathed.

"Good. We have much work to do in these next hours. I must call upon Asmodeus."

"Whatever for?" Duo demanded. He despised that archdemon.

"Target practice, what else?"

"Lucifer," Duo called his master's true name as he walked out of their quarters.

The devil froze just as he knew he would. He hated his name. The Light Bringer.

"Of all these years you could have helped me reconcile what was in me, why didn't you?"

"My child," Lucifer sighed. "Not even God Himself could have turned the key to your prison door. I merely stood by and told you it could be done. You had to do it yourself." He took another few steps and then stopped, his demeanor changing. "Oh, and just for using my name, I am going to inform Asmodeus that you have been harassing Lilith again." Asmodeus had always been overly protective of his beloved Lilith, who had fallen with him. Just the sound of her name on another man's lips was enough to drive him into an insane frenzy.

"NO!" Duo panicked, scrambling off the bed and trying to catch the devil before his disappeared. "Damn you! You…you…you already damned…thing…you…" Duo died off, realizing there was no way the devil could even be bothered to feel insulted by something he heard on a daily basis.

(O)(O)(O)

Heero sat on an ancient computer that had to have been from the early nineties, with internet that still had a tone when it tried to connect. But the computer was hidden in the back of an internet café and out of the light incase a particular man with green eyes walked in looking for him. Heero was buffing up on his research as fast as possible. Indeed there had lived a man by the name of Marqués de Villena who was rumored to have walked the streets of Salamanca without a shadow until he had disappeared mysteriously one day. The legends were vague and when he tried to tie them to Scotland he was confronted with comparisons of ancient ruins and Celtic culture. And the Tautha de Danaan, nothing about Christianity. _Don't think too hard over it_. He'd never understand the greater workings and hierarchy of mythology, religion and faith.

No mention of Hidalgo Yuri anywhere and he didn't have the time or money to pay for a genealogy service. Not that he really needed the proof, he concluded bitterly, with the flashbacks and dreams he'd been having.

Heero had to admit to himself at long last that he was just killing time. No mortal man understood the situation he was in and certainly if they did, they would not post it on the internet for anyone to find. He aimlessly typed in search terms and clicked on different sites as his mind drifted back to last night. He heard the Counting Crows' lyric pop into his head, _"A friend of the devil is a friend of mine…"_ but the word friend sounded so wrong. He briefly fantasized that he had been alone and lonely his whole life because he would only ever love one person. It made his solitude seem worthwhile all of a sudden. "Self-serving bastard," he swore under his breath. But he'd heard the truth in the words. Felt the rightness of them. He wanted to feel angry—what if Duo hadn't even gotten to him? What if he'd lived and died alone? How many times had he already done that? They were going to have a small talk when they next met up in two days. "Whatever he's doing right now," Heero groused. "I hope he's suffering."

(O)(O)(O)

Duo's head cracked against the wall with deadly force. Blood trickled down the dirty stones as he took a moment to catch his breath. He needed a healing and a protection spell or he wasn't getting another shot off at the bastard before him.

Asmodeus examined his fingernails for a moment, pushing the cuticles back at leisure. His long blond hair rivaled Duo's in beauty. The thick, straight locks fanned unnaturally in all directions while his bangs hid his crystalline eyes. He often preferred to go by Zechs. A name he had picked up a few thousand years ago. "Duo, please," his gravelly voice whispered though it filled and saturated the air. "It is rare I am afforded such freedom; try a little harder than that."

The devil sat back against the wall, frowning and shaking his head. Hopeless was written all over his face. Duo sighed and took a moment to let the healing spell sink in. He'd never beat Zechs by raw strength. The only option he had was…

(X)(X)(X)

Marqués stared up at the ceiling, still wrapped tight in Hidalgo's arms. Their bodies had long cooled from their heated mating. Unable to surrender to exhaustion, Marqués pulled a card from under his pillow. X. No X. X. No X.

X.

No X.

X.

(X)(X)(X)

Duo smiled. "Zechs, do you not feel it?"

Zechs blinked once and stared at Duo as though to ask, "feel what?"

Duo looked down at Zechs' heart, waiting for the blond to follow his gaze. When he did the archdemon took a staggering step backwards. Buried deep into his chest was the Arrow of Containment that he thought he'd deflected just a second ago. But it was there. Blood was beginning to soak his shirt and seep outward.

"You cannot move, Zechs," Duo sang sweetly. "You can only stare down at what you cannot believe. You have lost to me. Say it."

Zechs lips pursed tightly.

"Say it!"

"I have lost to you."

"Surrender."

Zechs just closed his eyes.

"Oh, my beautiful, _beautiful_ deceiver," the devil moaned as though he'd never seen anything more arousing in his life.

No X.

X.

(O)(O)(O)

AN: The names Marqués and Hidalgo, as some of you have already figured out are not names at all—they're titles. Marqués (pronounced in Castilian with a –th sound at end more than an –s sound) is a Marquis, and Hidalgo is a title for a Spaniard nobility or gentry. So, granted, Marqués de Villena is the Marquis of Villena. I kept the titles as their first names because in the case of de Villena, the man did exist so I can not presume to change his name and since this story is written in English, titles can work as first names just like in Gundam Wing where numbers pass as names as well! Just a small tidbit of clarification!


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Okay, so, last chapter received 1 review and lukewarm at that. So, I tried to switch things up, move things around and make this a more entertaining and comment-worthy fic. For my one reviewer, you will be relieved to note that there are no flashbacks in this chapter! So, I hope that this proves to be a more enjoyable read for you!

Warning: Graphic, sexual content.

**Chapter Four**

Heero knew Trowa would be waiting for him when he arrived to the standing stones. If only Duo had told him _how_ he was going to retrieve Heero, he would have been able to better plan his approach. What was he supposed to do? Jump as high as he could? He didn't have time. That's all he knew. He had to find a way to get Trowa out of there.

_Seven men spent seven months learning the Dark Arts from the devil himself._ Somewhere in him he had to have these powers! But where were they? _Just will it to happen…_ Just will it? Just whisper or close your eyes and click your heels? What? What did it take to just will something into being? The memory of Duo…no Marqués, the man Duo had modeled himself after once he had adopted the man's soul, flipping blank cards came rushing back to his mind. Just a mere thought, maybe a habitual action. He had to believe he could will his being. But what could he will? What were the Dark Arts? What did he have to pick from? What were the consequences of using his powers? Heero wanted to groan in frustration. He had to think fast. The weather was acting strangely which instinctively told him something was about to happen. The wind began to center around the stones and darkness seemed to fall in a more concentrated way just overhead.

"I will myself to be…to be a…" Heero frowned. Should he go for an easier animal to control like a rabbit? He thought a hawk might be a good idea but he hadn't a clue as to the mechanics of flying other than how an airplane functioned. A rabbit it was then. "I will myself to be a rabbit."

Nothing.

"Please, I really need this right now. It's for the good of mankind," he reminded the forest around him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Now or never. Rabbit or the end of the world as he knew it. No pressure. Just do it or die. _A rabbit…I am a rabbit…_

A strange feeling washed over Heero as though his body fragmented and then came back together. When he opened his eyes, he was about five inches from the ground and his ears hurt he was hearing so well. From what seemed like a huge distance, he could see the standing stones and a very tall looking Trowa. Was he really a rabbit right now? He wanted a mirror or a lake or something that would show him he was actually a rabbit. And then he hopped forward.

_Oh. My. God. _

Another hop. And another. A few more. Where had this ability been when he'd been in the military all these years? Not that a bunny rabbit would have been the first choice but still…!

Slowly, cautiously, he made his way into the edge of the standing stones and cowered against one, hoping to go unnoticed while he waited for a sign that the portal would open. It got darker, the wind circled harder and yet, nothing happened still. Realization dawned on him. The portal in Salamanca hadn't opened. _He'd_ opened it. The bunny hunkered down a bit more and when Trowa's eyes scanned the other direction, he took a careful hop forward and then another before sinking down into the grass to hide. Looking up he saw a small black circle open in the sky and the wind began to whip within the enclosure of the stones.

"Heero?" Trowa called out. "You're here. Where are you?" Trowa began to scan more thoroughly. He spotted it then. A lone rabbit trying to make itself as small as possible. "We have to get out of here before the devil uses you for his bidding. Nothing good can come of you being here; it's a trap!" Trowa lunged for the rabbit, causing it to take off in a frantic circle around the stones.

Heero could feel his tiny heart racing with fear and exertion. And just when he saw large hands in his peripheral on their fourth round around the circles, his paws left the grass and he was yanked, as though by strings, up through the portal.

(O)(O)(O)

"_A rabbit?"_ Duo laughed, holding the creature by the scruff of his neck. Blue bunny eyes glared back at him. "Oh but you are just too cute, shall I keep you? Make you my own?" he murmured, nuzzling the small creature that dangled in his hand as though beyond exasperation.

A moment later, Heero's feet touched the floor but Duo's hand was still coiled around his neck. "There's my beautiful man," the braided man purred, pulling Heero down for a slow, leisurely kiss. Heero stiffened. Though most of him rejoiced at the sensation, there was a small part of him that could not quite let go. How had he not known he was gay until this moment? How was he, Heero Yuy, even comfortable kissing someone else? "Kiss me, Heero," Duo whispered against the slightly frozen lips. "Don't think, just do. You know exactly how to do it."

Damn that voice! Damn those hands and that body and that scent. Damn this entire situation because he'd be damned before he refused a request like that from Duo. Heero yielded, uncaring that he was back in Limbo. Uncaring that he was kissing the guise of a man. Uncaring that a second ago he had been a rabbit in Scotland being chased by a druid. All that mattered were those lips pressed heatedly against his. So soft and passionate. Lips parted and tongues met. Duo groaned and Heero jerked Duo fast against him. Their bodies tightened with anticipation and groins pressed tightly against hips and legs for relief. It was Heero who had to pull back first, unused to such overwhelming emotions, his mind confused as to how to give the body what it wanted. Duo hadn't missed a beat, though. His mouth latched onto Heero's neck, biting and gliding along the tendons that ran the length of his neck. He scraped at his throat when Heero swallowed thickly and ran his hands down Heero's chest and stomach until a low moan was surrendered.

"Welcome back," Duo breathed. "I have missed you."

Oh, to be missed. Heero hadn't known such a feeling in his life before. It was sweeter than he had imagined it would feel.

"Apparently," he mused, his voice far too distant to sound sarcastic, feeling their mutual erections. His heart refused to calm itself. His hands couldn't seem to release Duo from his hold.

"My love birds," the devil sang merrily as he walked into the scene.

Heero instantly remember how to use his hands. He let go and took a step back. He took a long moment to assess the devil. The creature didn't wear a devilish smirk or have a devilish gleam to his red eyes. If anything, he looked a little impish having just walked in on such an intimate moment.

"Do I need to assign chaperones or can we act professionally? In three days, assuming the world doesn't end, I can personally promise to leave you two alone to have at it. Until then, keep it in your pants. Duo, you especially. Now, kindly follow me."

Duo shook his head and followed after the devil with no hesitation. Heero followed Duo. And the three walked across Limbo in silence. Heero wanted to look around but there was absolutely nothing to see until a door rose out of the darkness and the devil opened it, stepping back to let them in before closing it behind the three of them. It was a comfortable looking library. Velvet armchairs, a crackling fire, the smell of old leather books.

"By morning, you two need to have become one entity. That will give us three days to refine your skills as a team. I am going to leave now. When I come back in the morning there better be one body and two people in it, understand?"

"Yes, we understand," Duo spoke before Heero could open his mouth. "Perfectly. Now, a good night to you and we shall see you at dawn."

The devil regarded Heero for a long moment and then looked back at Duo. "Please, do not make me live up to my name," the devil said purposefully to Duo.

"I don't need to be threatened," Duo assured in a low voice.

With a small nod, the devil left the study and locked the door behind him.

"Well, then!" Duo said with a huge sigh, swinging his arms for emphasis. "Shall we just jump right in?" he laughed at his own joke.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Sit down," Duo motioned to the chairs. Heero slowly walked over to the larger one and sat down. The chair smelled like the man stalking him slowly. "Relax," he coaxed. When Duo reached the chair he slid one knee up to rest beside Heero's right leg and then slid another to fully straddle the man. "This will not hurt a bit, I promise. It is much like arguing with oneself except that part of you will now be me—and I do not back down or lose," Duo murmured in a voice pitched so low and husky that Heero found it was harder to breathe. Duo leaned forward and began another slow assault on Heero's already tender neck. Gentle, warm kisses. "We have all night, breathe for me."

"I want to know what to expect. I mean…I have no idea what is going on. I was in vacation in Salamanca because I hated my job in Madrid and this—this gate was swinging open and I just stepped inside to see…and then you grabbed me and—_gasp_—I was in Scotland—_groan_—and there's a part of me that loves you but I have no idea where, _Duo_…!"

"Heero, you were never a man of words, why now?" Duo mused, moving their hips together in a slow dance that began to build friction in all the right places. He had managed to unbutton Heero's shirt entirely and was assaulting the new territory mercilessly.

"I want answers."

"Is that not what got you in this mess to begin with?" Duo mumbled, working at their pants, mouth still focusing on the line of his partner's collarbone.

"Get out of my head," Heero tried to demand, though it came out as a heavy sigh when Duo found this new place to nip at him that caused his vision to blur.

"Our head. It's _our_ head now. Be nice and share, Heero."

"We really have to kill a fallen angel?" Heero asked, trying hard to keep his mind under control and on the bigger picture.

"I will take care of that; I just need to borrow this gorgeous body for a bit."

"But—"

Duo pounced. His mouth fused fast and hard with Heero's and he pressed the man back against the armchair with alarming strength. Their tongues met and Duo pulled just hard enough at the roots of Heero's hair to make sure all of his senses centered on feeling. This close, Duo didn't even have to work to read Heero's thoughts. The man wasn't battling moral demons. He was battling insecurities and confusion. Was he sure he knew how to kiss? Were his memories correct? Not that he should even be having memories from centuries past. Did he even look like Hidalgo? Was he even attractive? He'd never considered what others would think of him.

Duo growled and pulled back, not entirely pleased that his first attempt was unsuccessful. "Come. This will help."

He stood, letting his shirt just disappear from his body before reaching down to help Heero stand. Heero shifted his weight, obviously very unfamiliar with how to move with such a problem between his legs. Of course Heero would be in his late twenties and have such an adolescent issue. Hidalgo had been the exact same way. Duo slid Heero's shirt off and then worked on his pants until both of them stood completely exposed.

"Come with me," Duo reiterated, taking Heero by the hand and walking him slowly into another room.

Heero pulled back hard when he realized it was a bedroom. Duo looked back and smiled, almost tenderly. "I will not lay another hand on you if you say, I promise." Heero relented once more was led to a full-length mirror up against a wall. "Stand here." Heero stood before the mirror, feeling embarrassed over his state of undress. "Look," Duo encouraged in a soft voice, moving to stand behind Heero. "That, who you see in the mirror, will be us. Can you accept that?"

Heero watched in mute fascination as two delicate, pale hands emerged from behind his body and began to trace the subtle lines of his stomach. His manhood jumped and twitched. "Duo…" He wasn't sure about this. Heero felt his face turn red and his eyes look anywhere but at himself or in the mirror. This wasn't right. He felt lips against his shoulder blades and along his spine.

"Try, just once more."

Heero did. And again when he looked there wasn't something right with the picture. Those hands that belonged to no body that traced his so knowingly. "No."

Duo didn't hesitate again. He stepped around Heero and faced the mirror fully. Heero looked at Duo's reflection in the mirror and how his larger one fit behind his. Heero's shoulders were wider and seemed to come around in a protective manner. His arms, of their own accord, wrapped around Duo and held him by his waist and chest. His head lowered and he rested against Duo's neck. "Better?" Duo asked tenderly, his first vocal show of affection.

"Y-yes…"

"For once, my stubborn mortal, you have answered correctly. Maybe this was destined all from the beginning…" Duo tilted his head back and studied the image. It did look better with Duo in the forefront with Heero standing behind as support. The power as the weapon and the morality as the spine. They fit. It worked. Knowing now that all he had to do was slip into Heero's mind when it was unguarded he chose to move onto another important topic; one that had been ailing him for the past three day. "Close your eyes," Duo whispered in a voice pitched low, soothing but smoldering all the same. Heero obeyed. "What do you want from this night, Heero?" Heero's hands went rigid against Duo's body.

"I—I know that I know you but…I've never…I don't really understand…how…"

"Whenever you want to understand," Duo assured gently. "I will show you a kind of heaven that can only be found between us." The last thing he ever wanted was to hurt Heero. He realized that. Looking at the man behind him, the arms around him, he couldn't believe he had even forgotten what this was worth. An eternity of waiting wouldn't even be enough.

"I'm tired," Heero admitted, burying his face further into Duo's neck.

"Lie down, sweetling."

Heero just numbly complied. He was so tired of not understanding. These tests of spiders and mirrors. There was so much just about the foundation of religion and philosophy and history that he didn't understand. How his heart raced and his body ached when Duo was near but his mind panicked. He got under the covers and gasped when the silk touched his fading erection, bringing it back to life.

Duo slid in beside him and they stayed silent for a few minutes. "Please, just…at least let me help," Duo murmured, slowly turning onto his side to bring himself up against Heero. "Close your eyes," he instructed again. "Relax." Duo let his hand drift down Heero's chest and follow the apparent indent of his abdominal muscles. Heero was built magnificently, Duo admitted with prideful observation. His hand skimmed slowly, ready at any moment for Heero to decide they'd gone too far. Yet, long stretches of silence followed by a shaky exhale and inhale indicated he had no intention of speaking up now. Duo lightly grasped the taut manhood and Heero made a lustful but nervous sound. "Shhhh, it's okay," Duo assured, moving his hand slowly from base to tip.

He was thankful in that moment that his modern colloquial way of speaking was returning. This was not the time to sound old-world and distant. To his surprise, Heero actually turned his face into Duo's hair and burrowed in as though seeking comfort. In miniscule amounts, Duo increased the friction and speed of his hand. And by increasing amounts, Heero became tenser and turned towards Duo more and more. He knew Heero's insecurities over such a foreign activity was halting his desire and so with a subtle hand, Duo lifted the sheets over them, dimmed the lights further and guided Heero to turn entirely on his side towards him. The results were beautiful. Heero let himself go to a fuller measure, his sounds guttural and freely given. His hips began to rock at the pace Duo's hand set and he reached out to grasp at fistfuls of hair.

"Duo—I…" Heero sounded unsure, lost in passion but still nervous nevertheless.

"It's okay, baby," Duo assured, overly fond of that present-day term. "Reach for it."

Heero's fists clenched hard, his face contorted as it pressed desperately into Duo's hair, his body froze and he let out a choked, hoarse cry that gave Duo a glimpse of heaven unlike any he'd ever comprehended. No wives to go home to. No children. No bitterness lay between them. Duo and Heero were not Marqués and Hidalgo. They had inherited the love and the legacy but nothing more. Heero collapsed, gasping for breath, dazed by the experience.

"Go to sleep," Duo coaxed, pressing a kiss Heero's damp forehead. "I'll be here when you wake. I promise."

"I've never fallen asleep with anyone before," Heero murmured, exhaustion finally taking its toll. "It's…it's more than I had ever hoped for."

Duo sighed and pulled Heero into a tighter embrace, using his abilities to clean them up so they were more comfortable pressed together. So his stubborn moral mortal _had_ been lonely all these years. _Never again,_ he vowed as he willed the room into darkness and for Heero to fall into sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Warning: slightly graphic content near the end of the chapter. Readers be warned

**Chapter Five, Part I**

Heero woke in the morning. He took a moment to collect his wits and his memories and categorize all that had happened in the last three days. When his memories left off with Duo promising he'd be there the next morning he looked to his left and saw no one. "Duo?" he called, sitting up instantly, feeling an anxiety he had never felt before.

_I'm here, relax. Must I always remind you to relax?_

Heero looked right and left and then watched in utter shock when his hand lifted itself of its accord. It waved at him. _I am in here_, Duo's voice rang through his mind as his finger tapped his temple. _I just need you to sit back, relax, and do not, under _any_ circumstances try to fight me for control._

"This is _my_ body," Heero protested, trying to stand up. He couldn't. "Duo!"

_Heero,_ Duo sounded apologetic but mostly he sounded resigned. _We have three days. Fight, scream, rage…do what you must but realize that we can only begin progress when you accept it. _

"I am tired of not understanding! I am tired of being dragged here, thrown here, touched there, burn this, stand here, pass this, fail that! I am a pretty accepting person, I will have you know, but is taking it too far. Do you have no respect for me? You just expect me accept blindly?"

_Is six days, less than a week, in your life not worth it to save the entire world? Has Hidalgo bred such selfishness? _

Heero drew up short. This was not about time. This was not about selfishness. How could he tell Duo that it was about fear? He was scared out of his mind. Point a gun to his head, face him before an army—fine! He understood what a gun was, the consequences of a shot going off. But how could he not be scared when faced with something that much larger than life itself?

_It is okay to be scared, Heero. I just need you to relax and let me pull the strings for a few days. I promise you that when this is said and done that you will never have to face anything like this again. There is a quote in your mind, drifting somewhere around here. Courage is not the absence of fear, I believe it is. Give me your courage, my beautiful mortal. Acknowledge your fear…accept your fear. In that, you will find the power you need most. _

Heero spent several long moments in the dark, eyes closed, breathing heavily. He likened the situation to be as though he were undergoing anesthesia. Just let it happen, fighting it was futile. Breathe and relax. He had to trust, he had to believe, that he would wake up soon and everything would be back to normal.

"Okay. Let's try this."

Heero choked down bile as his body stood itself up and walked gracefully over to the drawers to fetch clothing. It was like being in a sick dream. He tried to remain relaxed and pliable as his body dressed itself and made its way into the living room.

_I dare not give us a shower,_ Duo teased.

"You're so kind." Heero sat quietly. "Have you been having flashbacks to the past?"

_Yes, mostly around the week before the men were to draw the cards that told of their fate. _

"Me, too. Do you think there is some significance in all that?"

_I know there is a message to them but I have not yet interpreted it. Though, I feel much more connected to you as a lover since I have had those memories. Perhaps it is meant to bind us together more quickly…_

"So, will our souls will just be quiet once we've taken care of this fallen angel business? That simple?"

_It's probable that since we're tuned in to that part of ourselves now that it may never be quieted._

"So, in three days, you're going to throw me back into Salamanca and I am going to catch a train home and live my life as though none of this ever happened?"

_Is that not what you want? To be free of this mess? _

"I find it ironic that to be free of this mess is to be free of…" Heero scoffed. "To be free of you. I mean, I don't know you but I think it's a little unfair that I get sent back to my empty apartment with memories of a man I've loved for centuries upon centuries and be expected to live out my life alone and happy. I mean, I was lonely to begin with but this is beyond cruel. And I'm helping save the entire world from a fallen angel, should I not get some kind of reward out of that?"

"Sounds like you want to make a deal with the devil," a voice added in from across the room. "I'm listening."

Heero's body stood up and faced the devil that had entered as silently as death. "I was just speaking with Duo," Heero explained levelly. Of all the people to ever know that dealing with the devil was dangerous—Duo and Heero knew best.

"So you two have worked out your differences? This quickly?" The devil crossed his arms and bit his lip unsuccessfully to hold in a triumphant laugh. "Destiny—she is a twisted mistress indeed. Come, lads, there is work to be done and a very disgruntled Zechs just waiting to aid us."

"Zechs?"

_Asmodeus is his true name; the most dangerous of the Fallen Angels. He goes by Zechs now, for whatever reasons…I've never known him as any different. He's the moodiest bastard I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. _

"Great."

_Do not let his charming good looks get to you, by the way,_ Duo groused.

"I'm not gay," Heero hissed.

The devil looked over his shoulder and cocked an elegant eyebrow. Heero stared in horror as his hand lifted to flip the devil off. "It's not me," he tried desperately to explain.

The devil just threw his head back and laughed again. "Oh it's going to be a good day in Hell!"

(O)(O)(O)

Zechs cocked his head barely to the side as he studied the mortal standing before him. As he tilted his head, a long, silky strand of flaxen hair slid down his shoulder and fell caressingly against his body.

_Bastard._

"What have you brought this time, Lucifer?"

"Your match."

A cold, mocking smirk curled the corner of his lips as he intoned a low sound of amusement. Crystalline eyes opened from behind a thick mass of bangs. "More table tricks?"

_Heero,_ Duo whispered in a low voice, causing a shiver to run down Heero's body. _You are a better man than I ever was and ever, ever will be. Never blame yourself for what I am making you do. You are pure and good. The power in you does not define you. Your decision to use it only when it's right is your judge of character. Forgive me, please. _

"It's okay, Duo," Heero barely breathed so Zechs would not hear him. "I…I understand."

Just as the word escaped Heero's mouth, Zechs lunged. Adrenaline flooded Heero's body and his first instinct was to stand in front of Duo and take the hit that was inevitably coming from the sheer force of nature that had its sights set on them. His hands shot out and fire so hot it burned blue engulfed the fallen angel, sending him back in flames. "Oh my God…" Heero gasped.

"God has very little to do with _that_, my friend," the devil laughed, enjoying himself too much. "A vessel indeed—you are a weapon of mass destruction!"

Zechs stumbled, trying to stand, as his darkened body quickly remodeled itself. That had not been an illusion. He felt pain. Real pain. For the first time in thousands of years, he _hurt_. Silvery-blue eyes narrowed on his opponent, trying to figure out just how to beat what he did not understand. The man before him looked horrified, appalled by what the devil had named him, staring down at his hands as though he couldn't believe it. Yet, there was something in him.

"Duo…" he growled. "You brought a friend."

A battle ensued in Hell unlike there had ever been. The entire time, Heero was helpless to watch. Each time Zechs attacked the fear sprang anew. At times he rushed in plain sight. At other times, he could only be sensed. Heero felt the pain of fire, of his head smashing against stone, of ice encasing his body. He felt chains constrict his throat and wire wrap bitingly into his body. Strange, he mused as pain began to sink in deep and assimilate itself, that even these mythical creatures used tactics humans could understand. He had been waiting for some fifth element or psychological attack.

_I will never let him into your mind, _Duo vowed passionately. _He has tried twice and failed twice and he shall continue to fail as many times as he attempts. I will heal your body, my love, every scratch I will atone for. But he will not, _ever_, touch your mind._

Duo's voice was thick and husky with effort and ardor. Heero realized then just how much Duo was actually doing. He was blocking all unseen attacks while trying to spare Heero as much physical damage as possible while trying to block his pain all while attempting the ultimate goal of defeating Zechs. Heero's body launched forward into a sprint to meet Zechs halfway. The men clashed in a maelstrom of sparks, fire, water, ice, smoke and oddly enough, the most vibrant and beautiful colors Heero had ever seen. He watched as his hand plunged an arrow into Zechs' chest and then he staggered back.

"Another illusion?" Zechs tried laughing, though his breathing was coming a bit too hard to sound convincing.

"Zechs," Heero spoke. "You'll have to tell me."

When Zechs reached down to grab the arrow a second one sunk deep into his chest with the sickening sound of a body accepting a foreign object deep into its fleshy recesses. Zechs' head snapped up at Heero holding a bow limply at his side.

"You son of a bitch," he rasped.

"Surrender," Heero spoke in a beautiful, deep and haunting voice.

"I surrender," Zechs whispered, sinking to his knees as reality sank in. The arrow was burning into his heart and his body and when he pulled at it, it was tangible. "I surrender!" he screamed, desperate to get the object out of him.

The devil stepped up, grabbed the arrow, jerked hard and then looked down mercilessly as Asmodeus, Zechs, collapsed to rest his head against the cool, stone floor.

"Duo, take Heero back and see to him. I will come to you tomorrow morning again."

_Can you make it back to our quarters? _

"I don't know," Heero answered honestly, trying his hardest to put one foot in front of the other. "I'll try."

He stumbled once and caught himself against the wall. "I—I just need a minute."

_Heero…_

Heero coughed and watched distantly as blood dripped off his chin. The room spun in one jilting turn.

_Heero!_

"I just…need…"

(X)(X)(X)

"Marqués, must you always harass the teacher so?"

"Well, if he is as educated as he says, then I do not see why it is such a problem to ask for his knowledge."

"You are worse than Eve. You do precisely because you know you should not."

"Hidalgo," Marqués spoke in a low voice. "You know exactly how to do what you should not."

Hidalgo looked away as a blush crept up his face but Marqués would not relent, "you know exactly where to kiss me, where to bite me, where to impale me…"

"Marqués!" he hissed, darting his gaze around to make sure no one heard or saw.

"I am just trying to keep you on the straight and righteous, my love. Hypocrisy is a sin."

Hypocrisy was the least of their sins. But love was the greatest of their virtues. Hidalgo knew he was going to the Hell his teachers spoke of but deep down, he wondered why. He was a good person. Loyal, dedicated, moral. If he was going to be damned to eternal hellfire for loving Marqués de Villena then so be it.

They walked in silence until they reached Marqués' home. Hidalgo always kept his horse there for the day since their school was so close to the home Marqués' parents had left behind for him upon their untimely death. They were greeted kindly by the servants (which Marqués treated better than any master in all of Spain, Hidalgo was sure), and then they retreated to the bedroom where food would be waiting. And sin. Plenty of sin.

They ate over light conversation, Marqués occasionally throwing a grape or slice of cheese at Hidalgo when he said something overly staunch or moral. He loved Hidalgo with all his heart. Hidalgo was like that beacon of light that anyone was helpless to resist on a cold, dark night. For all the darkness that Marqués saw in himself, he saw that much good in Hidalgo. He was powerless not to fall entirely for the man.

When the food was gone, Marqués shifted closer to Hidalgo and whispered words of eternal love and devotion. He pressed slow kisses down the man's neck and smirked when the larger man gasped or shuddered. He took great pleasure in stripping his lover down to nothing and even greater pleasure in watching Hidalgo's eyes grow dark as he divested himself of clothing. By the time they even made it to the bed, they were eager to move past foreplay. Kisses were feverish, groans were abundant and Hidalgo couldn't give a damn that finding pleasure in sex, even homosexual sex, was wrong. The way Marqués arched up and locked his jaw to keep from crying out as his fingers plunged deep, could not be wrong. The way he felt so hot and welcoming when they came together, could not be wrong. And by the time Hidalgo had his lover angled just the way he wanted and at just the tempo they needed, he _knew_ it was right.

Hidalgo felt tears behind his eyelids as he spent himself into his lover's enthusiastic body. The rush, the release, the emotional connection were all so overwhelming that it was hard not to scream from the agony of it all. He collapsed against his gasping lover and they both coiled together in a familiar and comforting manner. Darkness began to encroach upon his senses and yet his last thought was to assure Marqués what he meant to him, that all he needed was him.

"I just…need…"

(X)(X)(X)

Heero woke to see Duo back in his own body, cradling him in his lap. "How many days?" Heero managed.

"We have two, still," Duo assured. He ran his fingers through Heero's hair and sighed heavily. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine."

Duo stayed quiet, his eyes distant as he combed continually through Heero's hair. With the warmth radiating from Duo's body and the comfortable feel of being held by someone, it was hard to stay awake.

"Will you be okay when this is over?" Heero asked, giving up the fight to keep his eyes open.

"As in, will I be able to live with the fact that I must to return to the way all was?"

"Yes."

"Heero," Duo spoke tenderly, lifting Heero's chin just enough so their eyes met. "For once, worry about yourself. Your lack of concern for _you_ is what worries me the most."

Heero closed his eyes again and was pleased when Duo didn't ask him to meet his gaze or speak in return. "What…what if I do not want to go back to the way things were?"

Duo closed his eyes as he considered for the thousandth time making a deal with someone far more dangerous than the devil. He was going to talk to God.

(O)(O)(O)

AN: I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday…mine was…not the best but I am going to work hard to turn things around!! In the meantime, this story is not getting the greatest of responses but I am determined to see it out to the end, so I hope everyone enjoyed the latest installment!


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Okay, this is the inevitable graphic chapter. M for Mature, NC-17, etc. You all know the drill, yeah? Enjoy!

**Chapter 5, Part II**

Throughout the next two days, Duo and Heero, together in one body, faced a gambit of fallen angels. Each of them overly eager to try a different tactic. The devil was gaining as much information about the angel to come as possible. What was he like? What were his perceived weaknesses? What was he being sent down for?

"He still doesn't know what the angel is being cast out for?" Heero gasped for air as a black-haired angel slammed him into the wall.

_No, just that he's tearing Heaven apart to get to Earth._

"Is anger not a sign that he feels cheated, wronged?"

_Anyone would feel cheated if they were cast out of Heaven, regardless of what they were caught for._

"But—"

_This is why you are the vessel, Heero, and not the will. You cannot hesitate when so much is on the line. _

Heero ground his jaw in frustration. Blindly following was something he had learned from a very young age was the most dangerous and deadly of all follies. There was more to this story. There had to be. Heero withdrew deep into himself as he tried to find a new angle on the matter. Was there something they were all missing? The rest of the battle went by in a haze as he considered everything from the angel being framed to the idea that the angel was covering for someone else. It wasn't that he questioned God or anything…then again, he'd never been a devout follower of the Christian faith either…he was just questioning the situation. Instinct, intuition, _something_ told him that all was not as it seemed.

When Heero came back to reality he saw the devil pulling yet another arrow out of yet another fallen angel. No longer did the devil take satisfaction in the victory. His mind was lost in the future. He looked all too human today. Suddenly, Heero felt a wrenching deep within his body and he fell to his knees, grasping at his chest. Something was tearing hard at his body and he could feel seams and tendons splitting and separating. With a wheezing gasp, the snap finally occurred and not a second later, Duo was standing before him, hands on hips, cobalt eyes ablaze with anger.

"You know the way back. I am leaving for a while."

Heero waited to feel a hand reach out for him, or a brush against his shoulder as Duo left. But he only saw black boots walk past him as though he were nothing but a worthless, inhuman vessel. At least, less than human to not deserve his attention. Heero took a moment to collect his feelings, shocked at how bad it hurt to be rejected emotionally and physically by Duo, before standing. When he straightened his shirt out, he looked up to meet the devil's curious gaze.

"Lover's quarrel?" he asked nonchalantly, twirling the bloody arrow around a finger.

"I think he's mad at me for thinking there may be something more to this situation."

The devil shook his head and walked up to Heero. His black robes billowed around him, lending an ethereal appearance to the feared entity. Eyes, deep and dark as Hell itself, regarded Heero for a moment. "When Duo is mad he will look you in the eye, he will grab you by your shirt, your hair, anything he can get his hands on. When he is mad he exerts every power he has, every weapon in his arsenal. My mistaken beauty," the devil sighed sympathetically, "Duo is worried."

"About tomorrow?"

"We all are. But if you were thinking about the guilt or innocence of the angel, I believe his fear lies with you fighting him tomorrow. He cannot win and worse, he cannot protect you, if his concentration is split. He is relying on you to hand over your body and your cooperation entirely. Without it…" the devil died off before trying again, "he is immortal, Heero. He will not die. But you…you can very easily. And trust me in this: death is far worse for those left behind than for those who fall into its waiting arms. Death is kind, though mortals fear it above all else. Duo will be in a Hell unlike he has ever known if you perish tomorrow."

Heero sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Do _you_ not even sense that there is something more to this?"

The devil was quiet for the rest of their journey back to their quarters, deep in thought. "There is a saying that is pervasive amongst many languages and when that occurs, it is something powerful and to be noted. If it can cross the barriers of language, culture, and belief, yes, it is truth. The Spanish say it this way, _que será, será._ What will be, will be."

"That's how you come to terms with all of this? Just, what will be, will be?" Heero could barely contain his surprise and even, disgust. "We must think through every angle, try to ascertain the truth. Only then can we do what is right."

"Heero," the devil snapped and then sighed. He placed two pale hands on either side. "I trust you to do what is right."

(O)(O)(O)

Duo floated slowly down from Heaven until he reached Earth. He had no idea where he landed. It made no difference. He was in a forest in some country. It was sunset and brilliant rays of orange and gold lit the forest on fire as he walked along a deer path that followed a river.

"_Heero has suffered enough already…"_ Duo had pleaded. _"Give us this. Let me walk the Earth one last time as a mortal man. Let me live the rest of my life with him."_

"_Give up all your power? All your immortality?" _

"_All of it." _

The silence had been long and drawn out. Duo kept his eyes averted, knowing it was better to not know what God was or looked like. _"How is it in my interest to grant you this request?" _

"_I had to at least try…" _

"_Duo,"_ God had sighed, Duo couldn't believe that God could sigh. _"Tomorrow, when the angel falls, if you do what is right then I will grant your wish. I trust you will do what is right." _

Duo felt more than gravity weighing down on him. God had said to do what was right, not: destroy the Fallen. Heero's doubt echoed in his mind and for the first time, he questioned. Had there been some kind of mistake? Was this a test? The guilt that came along with Heero's fate beat down on him. If he did the "wrong" thing it did not just affect him, it affected the only person he had ever cared about. Did it not count anymore to have good intentions?

In the middle of the forest, unseen to even the smallest animal that hid in the foliage, Duo threw a fit of epic proportions. In his own world, explosions were as brilliant as the implosions. Duo was reintroduced to the unique pain of not being able to feel pain when that was all there was in his soul. He screamed, and swore, and cried. He screamed until he couldn't scream another second. He swore until he knew nothing more to say. And he cried until he had no more tears to cry. And then he remembered.

(X)(X)(X)

In the Devil's lair, the fateful moment was upon them. There were only two men left to draw the X. But, only one man in the room was not sweating, was not praying.

Marqués flipped the card and did not even spare the X a second glance, his eyes turning up to Hidalgo to assess his lover.

Hidalgo went as pale as linen as the sight of the fated card in Marqués hand blurred. His blue eyes desperately met Marqués' for some kind of reassurance that this could not possibly be happening. Marqués just shook his head and offered a small and sad smile. Hidalgo had to be lifted out of his chair and pulled toward the door. His blue eyes turning near-black with tears and desperation.

'Marqués…' he mouthed, too traumatized to even speak.

Marqués just stood and mouthed, 'I love you.' His eyes never watered, he never even flinched until the door closed and Hidalgo was gone. That fast. He had imagined the moment as being long and drawn out—an eternity in a second. But time had moved as steadily as it had all his life. And just that fast, Hidalgo was gone. Forever.

"It is natural for one to grieve at such a point," the devil assured in his silky voice.

"Leave me," Marqués requested in a low voice.

The devil motioned for Marqués to follow him and when they reached a rudimentary cell, the mortal made no objections when it was clear he was to enter. He looked on stoically as the cell was locked and the devil walked way. A million times he replayed his last moments with Hidalgo. Moments in silence, in agony and denial. He never wanted to forget those precious seconds. The first time in nearly ten years Hidalgo had looked at him as though he were the most important person on in his life. As though Marqués was the only one that mattered. That is how he wanted to remember Hidalgo.

The pain came then. The knowledge that Hidalgo was going home to a family. A woman he shared a bed with. A woman he had sex with. A life he was invested in. A life that could never have Marqués de Villena in it. This cell at least showed him what his life had truly become. No silk sheets and mahogany furniture to gloss over reality. This was all his life had ever amounted to. A prisoner. He had forever been a prisoner. Marqués screamed and swore and cried. He screamed until he couldn't scream another second. He swore until he knew nothing more to say. And he cried until he had no more tears to cry.

And then Marqués found the key to his own morality:

If it hurt, if it near killed him, then it was the right thing to do.

(X)(X)(X)

Duo sighed and looked up towards the heavens. "If what hurts the most is losing him again, does that make it right?" he whispered, too scared that someone would answer in return. This wasn't a test. This was a game.

And there was no way to win.

(O)(O)(O)

Heero woke to a kiss being pressed against his temple. Restless as he was, he felt he was just slipping into another dream. The mouth was warm and soothing and familiar. Another kiss. This time it began to follow the line of his mandible. By the time those moist lips reached his chin, Heero knew he was fully in reality.

"Duo…you're back…"

"Yes, I am here," he assured, sliding into bed, never fully relinquishing his seduction. His mouth began a new trail down the center of Heero's throat. "I know of no other place I would rather be…"

"I was worried." Heero tried to be stern even as he felt teeth scrape over his Adam's apple.

"Where I went, love, no harm could have befallen me. You had no reason to worry, I assure you."

Heero wanted to remark that his worry sprang from not knowing where Duo had gone, which he still hadn't reported, but any coherent sound he wanted to make was clogged when a nipple was caught between sharp teeth. He heard himself choke and then gasp as pain and pleasure assaulted him simultaneously. His fingers sank frantically into the sheets for purchase when he wanted to arch up and offer anything Duo wanted to take. But as a rule, Heero was not a wanton creature, and so he tried desperately to find some control.

Duo was having none of it. He began to nip his way down the side of Heero's torso. Each rib he grazed caused his lover to jump and jerk and thrash. Of course, Heero would be sensitive to every advance—the ex-soldier was not one to indulge, ever. Duo laughed when Heero really jumped as his pajama pants just ceased to exist.

"You are in my world," Duo breathed against his exposed hipbone. "I can make anything happen here…what is it you want most, beautiful man?" He ran his tongue down the curve of Heero's hip as he waited for Heero to speak, knowing full well that Heero would try to spit out something polite and ambiguous if he chose to speak at all. When Duo ran out of bone to follow, he bit hard on the inside of Heero's thigh causing the man to cry out alarmed. Duo worried the tender flesh until he was assured a brilliant mark would remain for weeks. Perfect. He worked his mouth back up to where Heero's manhood strained against his stomach. At least one part of his anatomy knew what it wanted. Duo thought about simply taking the length into his mouth but Heero's reaction was too predictable. In order to torment his lover further with the rift that had formed between the man's mind and body, Duo blew a tunnel of warm air from the base to the tip. A sudden inhalation and all went still. "Tell me what you want," Duo purred, the tip of his nose brushing the indentation between the head and shaft.

"Duo…please…" _don't ask me to articulate this_, the rest hung in the air like a ghost lamenting over its body.

Time and space finally came together. Hidalgo and Marqués were Heero and Duo. At long last, the seams had been sewn. The familiarity of the situation, the rightness that transcended time, and the enduring love that emerged from the darker recesses of their minds…all of it fused into a singular being that was _them_. The dance was perfect. Duo initiated, Heero fought for control, Duo pushed, Heero caved, Duo stopped and Heero (though rather inadequately) implored Duo to continue and never stop.

Duo drew the length into his mouth, knowing he'd meet no more resistance that night. Fingers threaded through his hair and gripped tightly at his scalp when he began to draw upon the organ. The bittersweet taste was addicting and the clench of muscles in Heero's thighs and abs was all the encouragement Duo needed. Using his ancient knowledge and personal experience from his mortal days, Duo did what modern terminology defined as: "made a wreck" of Heero. With each lap, each pull, and each vibration, Heero grew tenser and tighter…and louder. Duo chuckled low in his throat when Heero made sound so similar to a sob, promptly followed by a hoarse cry from Heero's overly-worked throat. It was all too easy, Duo noted with satisfaction, how quickly Heero came undone in his hands. Yet, it was not satisfying enough. The longer Duo spent running his hands over Heero's body and taking him into his mouth, the emptier he felt inside.

Sitting back at last, Duo willed himself to remember the image before him. Sweat beaded Heero's forehead as thick locks of hair obscured his closed eyes. His mouth was open and panting and his chest rose and fell, causing his stomach to expand and then contract—revealing every toned muscle on the man's body. Each exhalation lined that body with deep rivets. Duo heard a low growl of appreciation and anticipation escape his chest. Every ounce of him wanted nothing more than to straddle the man and sink down on that appendage he had just given so much attention to. And he was just about to do it when an emotion nearly floored him. He loved this man. He loved _this_ man. A descendant of Hidalgo was not Hidalgo himself. This man had his own personality, his own strengths and weaknesses. And though what remained of Marqués had been eager from the start to renew his devotion, Duo, the identity of Duo had not been so sure. And in this moment, he realized that he had not just accepted Marqués' will, he had willingly matched it strength for strength. Unable to just basely take Heero into his body, Duo slid up the slick torso and pressed a slow kiss to abused lips. Heero blinked and then closed his eyes again, giving into the kiss as he had given into everything else. The kiss was tender and loving, saying what they would be mortified to put into words after six short days…

The kiss ended as slowly and sweetly as it had begun and Duo's cobalt eyes met Heero's deeper hue as he slowly positioned himself over his soon-to-be lover. Heero's hands found Duo's waist but he kept his hold light and questioning. In this realm, Duo did not have to feel pain. It did not have to exist. Grateful that their first time together did not have to fully abide by nature's law, Duo glided easily down, willing himself to only feel the pleasure of the experience, until he was seated fully. Heero's fingers tightened to a bruising degree and his neck arched as far as it would go. It felt like all the air was being torn from his body. Every second that Duo's tight body stayed still upon his was another second of the most explicit pain he'd felt since he'd met the man. No amount of abuse from the fallen angels could amount to this torturous feeling.

"Duo…please…_move_…"

Duo braced his hands on Heero's solid chest and began to do just that. Slow at first, memorizing every inch of distance he had to cover, and faster then, working with the singular purpose of deriving the most pleasure possible from every movement. The sound of moist skin meeting skin only heightened their pleasure. Duo's fingernails bit into Heero's chest as Heero's hands turned aggressive to help slam Duo down as hard as their combined strength could muster.

Heero watched, unable to breathe the air around him, as he stared into dynamic blue orbs. At times, when the light hit just right he could see a streak of violet that lent itself to their unusual cobalt color. A corner of Duo's lower lip would disappear as he bit down on it for concentration and control, an act Heero discovered was fascinating and familiar. He'd watched Duo bite his lip many times in the last week, yet, taken in this context, he wondered how he hadn't been hooked on it from the start. A glistening bead of sweat escaped the thick bangs and slid down his angelic face. Though they moved violently together, there was something serene about Duo's expression. And Heero found he didn't like it.

The very hands that had helped Duo impale himself upon Heero suddenly halted all movement and silently, helped Duo off of him and rolled him to his back. Acting purely on instinct and some logic, Heero encouraged Duo to bend his knees up before he slid back into the only heaven he would ever know. Duo groaned low and appreciatively as Heero returned to him and began to thrust. Not slow, tender and loving this time. This was hard, fast and brutal. There was a hardness to Heero's expression as he slammed home at a frantic pace. And just when Duo thought it couldn't get any better, Heero shifted his position just enough to run his length against Duo's prostate. White light blinded him for a moment and pleasure beyond his wildest imagination assaulted him. Duo knew he had screamed, had heard it in the air, yet, he'd never felt the rush of air pass through his throat.

Heero closed his eyes and basked in the sound he had just been rewarded. Keeping his angle constant, he continually brushed up against Duo's most sensitive spot, egotistically pleased with the loud and pitched moans and cries that seemed to be ripped unwillingly from his partner. The harder he thrust, the tighter Duo became around him. The feedback system was intense and soon Heero was thrusting so hard and Duo was so tight that the event horizon was upon them. The last frontier before both of them fell into an oblivion they had never experienced before in their lives. And while Hidalgo and Marqués were always in the shadows, Duo and Heero were in unexplored territory, no memory sufficient enough to embody this moment. Duo wrapped a hand around his length and pulled twice before his release was upon him. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as he screamed Heero's name into the darkness of the bedroom. Heero was only a split second behind. Every muscle in his body froze, all the cells in his brain burned white hot and then… release. It hurt him as much as it helped him. Choking on Duo's name, trying to convey the agony and bliss of the experience, Heero helplessly drove into Duo as he rode out his end.

Both men sank into the bed. Tears and sweat mingled as they rested their faces against one another. Their chests labored and their limbs hung limp in contrast. Silence eventually settled into the air and with it, the demand that something be said.

"Duo…" Heero tried. "I…" He frowned; did he really love this man? Even now he didn't feel certain of it. It felt like the right thing to say in this situation but not the right thing to say for them. "Thank you," he settled on, knowing that at least sounded sincere.

Duo just placed a kiss against Heero's cheek before dropping his head once again. "Tomorrow, Heero…I want to try something else."

"Something else?"

"Instead of me taking over your body entirely tomorrow, I want us to share. I want you to step forward if you think it is necessary."

"Why?" Heero whispered, knowing fear was creeping into his voice. They hadn't practiced this way! He didn't know how badly he could hurt them by splitting the body's ability between two wills. It could ruin everything…

"Because of the two of us, you are the only one that knows what the _right_ thing to do is," Duo whispered back, his voice tender and almost remorseful.

"But tomorrow, we know we have to destroy the fallen angel…"

"No, tomorrow, my love, we have to do what is _right_."

Heero felt his stomach bottom out and he found that though he rested fully atop Duo, he had turned his face into the crook between Duo's neck and shoulder for support. He didn't want to deal with this anymore. He didn't want that nagging feeling in the back of his head to return. He hated doubting himself. And worse, he hated doubting Duo.

"But I don't know what is right! How am I supposed to know?"

Duo sighed and slipped his fingers through Heero's hair, stroking the damp strands back, feeling deep contentment sink into him even as he thought about tomorrow. "You just will, Heero. That is what you have been told all along. What will be, will be, right? What you do is what will be and what you decide to do will be the right thing to do."

"I don't understand how those like you and Lucifer could have so much faith in me…when I don't have faith in myself."

"Oh, Heero," Duo sighed wistfully. "That is not how we are…that is _what_ we are."

(O)(O)(O)

AN: Sorry, long wait there. Though I think we've all been busy getting back into the swing of school and/or work after Christmas break. I've been gallivanting around Europe a bit, trying to clear my mind of a miserable ex-boyfriend. I'm pleased to report, after a month, it seems to have worked pretty well! Hope this chapter was a good way to start the New Year. Reviews (i.e. validation or much needed, albeit, constructive criticism) always, always appreciated.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Six**

Heero woke up alone, as he expected he would. He knew when Duo had entered his body. He had felt that strange, cramped feeling for a brief moment before he assimilated himself to the second presence within him. It was Duo that had sent his mind to sleep with a loving but firm command. And it was Duo that had woke him up, whispering to him about how much he believed in him, in them. Soothing words, endearing words, in a pitch that forced Heero's heart-rate to stay down. He rolled out of bed and began to dress for the day. What did one wear when facing a fallen angel? Fortunately, Duo had provided the clothes once again. It was fitting enough; black jeans and a black T-shirt. It's not like the underworld had the option of picking from too many other colors in terms of uniforms.

_Don't think about what will happen, Heero. You can only control each second as it passes. Let it come and let it go. Looking ahead will blind you to what is in front of you. Stay focused on the now._

"I was a soldier once, you remember me saying that, don't you?" Heero snapped and then sighed; he knew Duo could read his chaotic mind. He was worrying about the future. The future of mankind…the future of _them_.

Duo was worried about himself and Heero more than mankind. Everybody could go about their day with the peace of mind that it was not the apocalypse, not on his watch. But everything rode on his future, on their future together.

Heero made his way to the study and sat down in Duo's armchair to wait. Though the idea of waiting scared him more than anything else at the moment.

_What would you do with me if I was actually allowed to come to Earth with you?_

"Gay marriage is legal in Spain."

_You're not gay, remember? _Duo teased.

"I wasn't," Heero corrected. "And truthfully, the idea of another man…or woman, for that matter, appalls me."

_That is a strong way to put it._

"It's the honest way to put it. I want you to be with me for the rest of my life and I want us to have the legal benefits of that commitment; of course I would marry you. It has nothing to do with gender orientation."

_Do you have a nice residence?_

"It's a little bland at the moment," he admitted, shrugging. "I just need to buy a few magazines to figure out how to decorate a home."

Duo kept Heero on the subject of his apartment and his life on Earth. What kind of food he usually ate, what hours he kept at work, what kind of holidays he would like to go on. Fortunately, the devil did not take too long in coming since Heero did not lead the most exciting of lives and therefore could not have contributed much longer to the subject set before him.

"Ah, good, you are awake."

"It would be more appropriate to ask if I slept," Heero groused, bracing his hands on either side of the chair to lift himself out of it.

"Duo would not have allowed you to put yourself in such danger as exhaustion. Of course you slept." The devil looked around the study for a moment and sighed. "We have about ten minutes. I will drop you through the portal and the rest is up to you. I cannot interfere."

"I understand."

"Good, then, follow me."

The mood was so solemn and somber while at the same time so tense and agitated. Heero followed behind, willing his mind to be blank. The devil never looked back or up or down or left or right. He just kept his reddish gaze forward to their unseen destination. Duo kept his presence tangible but his voice silent. There was nothing he could possibly say now. He wondered if gladiators must have felt this way being led out to the arena. For once, he was grateful for Limbo's black surroundings. Too soon but what seemed like hours later, they came to a stop where if one looked down they could see green grass below them.

"I will remain right here the entire time," the devil assured, placing a hand on Heero's shoulder as the mortal stared down onto Earth. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," Heero barely managed. He was never going to be ready, so why not go now?

_Close your eyes,_ Duo commanded sharply.

Heero closed his eyes just before the sensation of falling, spinning and absolute vertigo took him over. He landed with a thud, as always, staring up at where he had fallen from. Though this time, he was quick to jump into a standing position. Heero's body was instantly flooded with adrenaline as he turned a circle, searching for an enemy that was nowhere to be seen. He remembered the times that Zechs had come at him, entirely invisible, only the barest whisper of wind heralding his attack.

_Breathe,_ Duo ordered.

Just as Heero pulled in air, something in the sky caught his attention. It looked like a person. White mixed with red as the body fell closer to earth. And then it hit with a sickening crack. Heero was greeted by the sight of two bloody stubs where wings had once been. The man was still for a moment and then slowly, he stood. Eyes narrowed as he took in his surrounding and then, when reality sank in, he threw his head back and screamed. Heero blinked hard as his one of his ears bled in response. He wanted to close his eyes to help block some of the pain but something about the angel caught his eye.

The man wasn't screaming in rage. He was screaming in helpless agony.

_Be pragmatic. Remember, no one wants to be kicked out of heaven—remorse is an optional feeling._

Heero agreed wholeheartedly. It was like taking a toy out of a child's hand even though a moment ago they had used it to hit another kid. The tears were not for the remorse of hitting someone else, it was for the anger of losing that treasured possession. And though this angel was anything but cherubic, he had still been graced with thousands of years of what mortals perceived to be paradise.

"Why have you come here?" Heero spoke in a low and even voice.

The angel drew his head back to an upright position and stared into Heero's eyes. "Who are you?"

"That all depends on why you have come here."

"Is this how I am to receive my justice? Through the guise of a mortal? My disgrace is deep enough!" he bellowed.

"I _am_ a mortal," Heero assured.

Beautiful eyes narrowed and studied Heero slowly, carefully…waiting for the catch.

"Not what you were expecting?"

"No, not exactly."

Heero crossed his arms and kept his gaze cool and level, finding that faced with the threat had finally let his blood pressure drop. "Why have you come here?"

"You'll have to beat it out of me, _mortal_."

Heero relaxed and kept his expression mild as his arms shot out and blinding white light crossed the distance and encompassed the angel. The element of surprise worked as it always did. The angel took a hit he could not readily recover from. He watched as the brown-haired angel did damage control, putting the fire out on his body and repairing his skin as quickly as possible. When his blue eyes looked up again, they were cold and hardened. He'd found the catch he was looking for. Perfectly slicked back hair had a single piece falling onto his forehead, the only sign that he was not fully recovered.

"Why are you here?" Heero asked again, making sure to never raise his voice.

This time, the comment triggered the attack. The angel rushed forward, faster than Heero's eyes could follow, but Duo was ready. Their bodies collided, limbs tangling as they fought to get a hit off before worse methods were employed. Heero tried to tune out the familiar feel of ice and fire and the biting sting of metal or poison. He opened his mouth to speak once, to ask the question again, but ice crept up his chin and encroached over his mouth. He wanted to smile when he felt Duo's anger wash over him. Who knew the smaller man was so possessive over his lips?

The angel pulled back abruptly. "What are you?"

"Who are you?"

"Treize."

"I'm…a patchwork of two people." Heero shrugged. "Truthfully, though, you're really only up against one. I'm just along for the ride. Why have you come here?"

"Why do you care? Why do you keep asking?" Treize demanded, his wrists flicking in an eloquent movement that instantly bound Heero up into a barbwire-like contraption. A few seconds later the metal splintered in a million piece and Heero took a deep breath in.

"I will ask until you answer."

Another wave of rage encompassed the angel but this time, instead of rushing Heero, he disappeared.

_Be ready to run…he may try to take the fight somewhere more populated._

But the attack came to them. Heero let his head hit the ground and spit blood out so he could keep breathing for Duo's sake. Right now, he just had to stay conscience. He felt fingers sink into his hair and slam his head back into the ground as another wrapped around his neck. Heero turned his eyes to Treize and watched sympathetically as the angel's skin began to bubble and melt as though acid were consuming it. The hands that were decaying refused to let go of his neck.

_Answer him: why have you come here?!? Damn it, we don't want to do this if we don't have to! _Duo screamed into Treize's mind. _Answer his question!!!_

Treize released Heero's throat and watched dispassionately as the mortal body struggled to recover. The man took pain well, that much was clear. A worthy vessel if there was such a thing.

"Do you love the man within you?" he asked in a low voice.

"In a way I cannot explain," Heero rasped, the fringes of darkness creeping further into his perception, narrowing his vision to a tunnel.

"Why am I here, you ask?" Treize spoke mildly, still kneeling over Heero. He moved so fast, neither Heero nor Duo had time to react. A spike so thick and crude, made of jagged metal sank deep into Heero's chest, just missing his heart. A loud gasp escaped Heero as he heard Duo scream in his head. Yet, even as Duo screamed, Heero watched his hands return the favor by impaling Treize's chest with a thicker spike.

_Demand an answer from him now._

"Why have you come here?" Heero barely managed to whisper.

Treize tried to laugh but all he could do was wheeze for a moment before he could repair his lungs enough to speak, "because I did what you are doing now. I kept a soul within me. I loved once, _once_, in all my existence and when she died I let her go. I let her go, do you hear me?!?" Treize screamed. "But my daughter," he choked on the word, "when she died…so…_so_ young, I could not let her go, so I kept her with me."

"Was she not going to heaven?" Heero heard himself slur.

Something hardened Treize's devastated features. He stood up, reached for the spike at his chest, and yanked on it, hard. He looked smug as his body quickly recovered and Heero still lay on the grass, laboring over his torn lung and loss of blood. "Mortals," he mused at first and then answered the question, "no, she was not. A child was not going to be permitted into heaven."

_Heero, love, you must get up. I know that sounds impossible but your body can still manage it. I will block the pain as much as I can. _

Heero let tears fall down his face unchecked as he struggled back to his feet. One of his lungs was punctured, he knew that much by the excruciating pain that filled the cavity of his chest every time he inhaled. He felt as though he was hollowing in.

"Why?"

"Why? Because I was tricked!" Treize hissed, charging the mortally wounded man. He reached out with ice and was met with fire. Steam bellowed so thick it was blinding to both parties. Duo used the opportunity throw the all of tiny shards of metal that lay on the ground from the barbwire into Treize's body. Blood began to dot the man like an intricate grid. The next attack came before Treize could administer another one. Duo began to throw the vague image of a little girl around the steam as it continued to billow around them, slowly dissipating. At first, Treize turned to catch the little girl but then he grabbed his head, growling with frustration. "The woman I loved was possessed by a soul…a soul escaped from Hell. I should have detected it but…" he died off as he reached out to ensnare Heero. So slick with blood, Heero was able to twist out of the grasp. "It was too late. By the time I discovered the truth, the soul moved into my daughter's body. I killed her so Saint Michael would not, thinking she would go straight to heaven." Another attack, this time Heero felt a hard shove on his mind. It felt like his skull was being put into a large clamp. And the more he resisted, the more pressure encompassed him. "And yet, when she reached the gates, all they saw was the soul of the damned, not the small light of my daughter that fought to come forward. So they sent her back down—all of her. I had no other choice!" Treize screamed, reaching for the shard that was embedded in Heero's chest. "They were going to let an innocent soul go to Hell just because they didn't look close enough! How could they not see? How could they make such a mistake?"

"And so you were cast down for having another soul in you?"

"A damned soul. They damned my daughter along with the previously damned! I brought a damned soul into heaven. That was my crime, _my sin_."

_He's innocent!_ Heero yelled at Duo just as Treize finally found purchase on the large metal spike sticking out of his chest. _We do not have to destroy—_all thought escaped Heero as he felt the spike withdraw from his chest. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't blink. Couldn't even form a thought. All was blank. He felt no pain. Felt no emotion. There was nothing but the information his eyes tried desperately to send to his nonresponsive brain.

_HEERO! NO!!!_

As Heero began to sink to his knees, Treize produced a sword and raised it as though to take Heero's head form his shoulders. Duo did the last thing he could think of. He sank the notorious arrow into Treize's healed chest as his lover's body crumpled. Treize looked down, this time his surprise was mixed with horror. "I will _not_ go to Hell with my daughter's soul in mine. She is _an Innocent_!" Treize threw his head up to the heavens. "_She is an innocent, do you hear me!?!_"

Heero knew that Lucifer and God were there an instant later, along with a few other presences he was not familiar with. His world was a blur and he couldn't lift his eyes from the grass under his knees. Blood so thick it looked black ran down his chest unchecked. His heart slowed and the world began to reel.

"Duo…" Lucifer whispered remorsefully. "He was _innocent_," he said in reference to Treize. The arrow that protruded from his chest condemned the angel for all time.

"Duo," God sighed.

Heero opened his mouth to speak but blood choked him and flowed freely from his mouth.

"My God, please…" Treize implored, his hands at the arrow, pulling desperately. "Take her at least! I do not care where I go. Take my daughter!"

"Treize, she is a part of you now."

_Heero! It is an illusion! Tell them it is an illusion!!! _

Heero opened his mouth again but only a garbled choke came out. _I do not have the strength to undo the illusion, Heero. Please, lover, please, find a way!!! HEERO!_

Heero did not even feel his body fall forward onto the ground, could not see the world around him though he was not yet released into the next. He blinked once, looking at his outstretched hand. There was something in it. He blinked again. It looked like…like a card…

"Heero…Duo…" Lucifer mourned as he knelt down to Heero's body. Suddenly, he pulled back, his eyes wide and unbelieving. In Heero's hand was a white card. It was blank.

Heero drew his last breath and…

_No X_

Closed his eyes, letting the last of his life force out of his body.

_X_

(O)(O)(O)

Lucifer jumped up, sick with denial, as he grabbed the arrow and pulled it easily out of Treize's chest. An illusion. The best illusion Duo had ever created. The arrow had even fooled him.

"Thank you," Treize murmured in a wobbly voice, tears beginning to race down his cheeks. "Thank you."

"Get out of my sight," Lucifer hissed. "Before I condemn you myself."

When Lucifer turned he saw Duo knelt down at Heero's body. Duo could not be on Earth…not unless…Lucifer looked to God, the being that had once been his closest and most trusted companion. He knew Duo had gone up to Heaven that day but he hadn't realized that Duo had bargained for his own mortality and not Heero's immortality. He had fully expected Heero to join their small company…not the other way around. Yet there was Duo, more beautiful than ever in his mortal state.

"There is nothing I can do," God's voice filled the air though He was no longer on Earth. Both He and Treize were gone as quick as they had arrived.

"I thought I could protect him," Duo whispered numbly as he ran a hand through Heero's hair.

Lucifer wanted to reach out and touch Duo as he so often did but realized he could not touch a mortal on Earth. So he stood back, crossing his arms to keep from the temptation.

"Leave him Duo. Let me handle this," he hissed urgently.

"I can't leave him."

"Duo, step away from him. Now."

"Lucifer…I…I can't…"

"_Do. It. Now._"

Duo could not contain his sob as he jerked away from Heero's body. Tears began to fall and sobs wracked his body painfully.

(X)(X)(X)

Marqués stood in the room, unseen and undetected by all the other occupants. He had learned to leave Limbo a few years ago and wander the earth as nothing but a witness to all around him. He stood in the room as Hidalgo's sons and daughters grieved around his dead body. He looked peaceful in his death. Marqués knew that Hidalgo's last thoughts had been to join him but…they were caught up into something far grander than they had ever expected. Marqués soul had not gone to Heaven or Hell when he had died ten years prior. His soul had joined his shadow in Limbo. And when Marqués' eyes shifted to Hidalgo's older son he saw it. His lover's soul. He had not been released either. Instead, he would endure through the family's lineage until their greater calling was upon them. With a small smile, Marqués said his goodbye to the body he had once loved, but not the soul. No, he knew he would see another day when Hidalgo returned to him. Perhaps with different colored eyes, even skin, but still, his Hidalgo would be back. Someday.

With a satisfaction that could last centuries, Marqués turned and left.

(X)(X)(X)

Duo closed his eyes when he knew the devil meant to transport him. He couldn't bear the image of being torn away from Heero. He felt space and dimension shift as he transcended both of them. The vertigo was familiar but his mortal body was unused to the sensation. When he hit the ground, he felt like he was going to be sick. Fortunately, he had nothing to toss. Wherever he landed, the floor was cool and it felt good against his burning face. Keeping his eyes closed, Duo concentrated on recounting every minute he had been with Heero. He would do this every day until he died, he promised himself. No matter how he made it through tomorrow or next week or next year, he would take time to remember Heero.

The last thing Duo remembered before blissful darkness overtook his exhausted mind and body was the image of Heero looking at him after he had just shifted from being a bunny back to a human. Though not amused with Duo's antics the stern expression on his face could not hide the warmth in his eyes. That warmth…Oh God, how would he ever live without that?

(O)(O)(O)

Duo was in Heero's apartment, he had discerned that at a later date when he was able to drag himself off the floor. Human bodies needed to use the bathroom and eat, apparently. He had forgotten some of those pesky habits. Sitting at the dining room table, eating some cheese, bread and fruit…the food in boxes made him nervous…he sifted through all of Heero's mail and personal information. Spanish had changed a lot since he had last taken the time to read something on Earth. It took him several hours just to get through a letter explaining that all of Heero's money had been transferred to the account linked to the debit card that had arrived with the letter. At least Duo was somewhat familiar with that. You put the card in a machine, typed in four digits, and paper money came back out. A useful contraption until someone forgot the worth of money and how it came about—by work. He cursed himself for being so bitter. Duo had never been one to let bitterness sink into his being. He wore it but it was only ever a façade until now. He wondered if anyone would come looking for Heero and what he would say if and when they did.

All thoughts eventually turned in this direction. Duo decided that he would say he was house-sitting for Heero while the man was on his vacation. All attention would turn to finding the missing man and Duo would find the tears in him once again to be let off the hook as a suspect. He had conveniently found in his pockets all the identification papers he ever needed to be considered a legal citizen of Spain. Oddly enough, it showed that he had moved to Spain from the States, his last name being Maxwell. Waiting on the day the authorities came to the door, Duo was able to find some purpose for living in the meantime.

The nights were horrible as he slept in a bed that smelled of Heero. He had nightmares of waking up to Heero's dead and bloody body next to his. The decaying mouth accusing Duo of his death. There were nights when Duo pleaded to God and the Devil to help him. There were times when he considered killing himself to join Heero, though he truly doubted that they would end up in the same place. No one talked to him, no resolution came to him. He was alone. Completely and utterly alone for the first time in centuries. The feeling was nearly as excruciating as losing Heero.

Two weeks passed and Duo expected the doorbell to buzz any second. The phone to ring announcing the police investigation. Nothing.

By the fourth week, Duo had taught himself how to buy groceries, though he still ate cheese, bread and fruit. He had plans for buying some chicken next week and attempting the stove. That was how he survived. Plans. Goals. Everyday had a purpose. Every week had a goal to be realized.

By the sixth week, Duo could sleep through the night. Numbness sank in deep and allowed him a reprieve from the madness he had felt engulfing him.

Eighth week, still no calls, no knock on the door. Duo wondered if he should go to the police.

Tenth week, Duo gave up on waiting for the police and went out in search of a job. There was a mechanical shop at the end of the street that had his most favorite modern technology—the car. He knew them inside and out, had studied them in every way. So, he put in an application and less than a week later, despite no work experience, had landed the job due to some on-site demonstration of his abilities. Though he spoke Spanish in a strange dialect, most people chalked it up to him being from the United States. They always did teach outdated Spanish over there.

By the twelfth week, Duo could define himself. Duo Maxwell. Age: 25. Occupation: Mechanic. Ethnicity: American. Citizenship: Spanish. Hobbies: cars, books, movies, and music. Favorite foods: anything that did not come in a box.

It was a start. And that was more than he had ever hoped for. Eventually, he came to see the house as his own (he was paying the rent, after all) and his life as his own. He had some friends down at the shop and a few cafeteria owners knew his name and face.

Nearly five months later, Duo was okay. Not good. Not great. He was okay. And he knew someday he would be good. And someday he would be great. But not today. And that was acceptable. He had not forgotten the power of acceptance in his time as a mortal.

It was Saturday morning, winter. Opting to shut the heating off so he could snuggle under the heavy covers in the cold morning air, Duo felt a twinge of contentment. A small part of him wanted to suppress it but a larger part of him let it happen. Heero would want him to be happy. Would want him snuggled under his covers, feeling content. Duo rolled the idea of a pet over in his head for the twentieth time that week. A dog. He wanted a dog. His work said that he could bring a dog to work with him as long as it was trained. He could train a dog. Now he just had to think of a kind.

Lying in bed, daydreaming of what kind of dog to buy, Duo did not hear the door to the apartment unlock. He did not hear the soft footfalls in the hallway and it wasn't until the door to the bedroom turned that he sat up, never once thinking that a burglar would choose a Saturday morning to break and enter a home. Duo sat up in bed, the covers still bundled around him, mind frantically thinking of what to do in the situation. Did he attack? Did he scream? Did he run? Would he be able to run?

"Oh my God…Duo?!"

Duo's head snapped up as his eyes met deep blue ones. For a moment he knew he was hallucinating. It was a burglar, not Heero. Heero was dead. He had let Heero go. Wait, he was still dreaming! That was it! While he was daydreaming he had fallen back asleep and this was all a crazy dream!

"Duo…how are you here?"

"I'm mortal," Duo answered in a dazed voice. "The Devil just sent me to your home with ID papers…I have a job at the mechanic shop and…there is food in boxes at the grocery store…I was thinking of getting a dog…"

"Duo? Are you okay?"

"I'm dreaming. I'm fine," Duo replied weakly, too distracted by the reality of his dream. The bed sheets felt real, the cold air on his face was _too_ real…

"Duo…" Heero murmured, reaching out to put his hand against Duo's forehead.

"Heero?" he whispered, too scared that he had lost his mind. That this was a hallucination and…and…could hallucinations be physical? Could he really perceive a hand on his forehead? "What…what's…happening—?"

(O)(O)(O)

AN: What is happening indeed? dum, dum, dummm! Stay tuned final chapter on its way.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Seven **

Heero barely had time to catch Duo as he began to fall towards the wall. At the last second, Heero inserted his hand and caught the back of Duo's head. He was real. Oh God, how had this happened? Duo was mortal! Passed out, out cold, but mortal. Heero felt tears misting his eyes as he lowered Duo back into his bed. How long had Duo been here without him? How had he figured out the twenty-first century? Mortal as he was, Duo looked extremely vulnerable. Though it was clear that his usual determination and logic had helped him adapt, Duo's mortal self was far more helpless than the immortal Duo. He lacked his arrogance, his confidence even. That much was painfully clear. Was this what was under the untouchable being Heero had first met? He felt his heart flip over as he brushed a few strands of hair off of Duo's face. God, was he ever beautiful.

Heero had spent the last five months in a hospital. He had no idea how he got there or who had gotten him there but the last thing he remembered after collapsing during the battle was waking up in a hospital bed, fresh out of surgery. Supposedly someone had turned him into the hospital, saying they found him in Retiro Park by the statue of the fallen angel. It had taken him five months to recover. The Preventers had assured him that he would have a job when he recovered from the brutal attack. Five months. Heero knew his recovery had been slow because though they had done wonders on his lung and patching up his chest, they could not fix a broken heart. He had lacked the desire to recover for nearly three months. An ugly, angry scar ran from his neck to halfway down his stomach from where they had done surgery. It was the scar that had encouraged him to recover. If his body was alive then he had to be alive. Physical therapy had been excruciating but now he could jog a distance if he wanted to. He would work his way up to sprinting by seeing a therapist once a week now.

But none of that mattered. His body would heal. He knew that much. But he had not been so sure about his heart and soul. Not until now. Pulling off his shirt and slipping out of his jeans, Heero slid into bed and wrapped his arms tight around Duo. On Earth, in _his_ realm, he wanted to treasure and protect Duo. And just as Duo had daydreamed about getting a dog and what kind, Heero drifted off to sleep daydreaming about starting a life with Duo, any kind of life they wanted.

(O)(O)(O)

Duo woke to the feel of arms and the overpowering scent of Heero in his nose. When he turned his head he saw Heero breathing deep and slow and peacefully beside him. A long scar ran down the middle of his chest and finally, blissfully, reality sank in. Heero was really here. Somehow, modern medicine had managed to revive and repair him. And now he was back, home, and with him. Most importantly, with him.

"Thank you, Lucifer," Duo whispered, closing his eyes against the onslaught of tears that threatened to choke him and thusly wake Heero. He blinked and blinked again but it was no use. The tears and the sobs came anyways.

"Duo…" Heero murmured in a low voice as he woke to a quaking body beside his. Renewing his grip, he held Duo tightly in his arms, rocking and crying right along with him. "It's okay now. We're okay now."

"I knew I had lost you…"

"I know," Heero cried, his voice thick with tears. "I know."

The two men cried together, arms wrapped fiercely around the other, whispering promises for the future, plans they would realize, a life they would live to the fullest for each other.

(X)(X)(X)

Marqués watched Hidalgo ride off, flipping the card in his fingers.

No X.

X.

No. X.

X.

Little did anyone, even the devil himself, know that the commands Marqués issued to change the cards were:

Hopeless.

Hope.

Hopeless.

_Hope._

And if Marqués had anything to say about it, there would always be hope for the future.

X.

(O)(O)(O)

AN: Well! Sniffle. That's it everyone. Right now, I'm developing some ideas for another go-around. Thank you all so much for the support and I wish everyone all the best. xox


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